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heyidkyay · 3 months

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Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU

Matty x marketseller!reader

Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...

Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)

“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”

Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents.

I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back.

With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went.

“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”

Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”

I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest.

A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.

See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid.

It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.

He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.

“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.

It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.

“Here we go then.”

I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach.

“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”

Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent.

“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”

I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”

His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.

“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”

I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”

Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”

I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now.

With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.

The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.

It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale.

Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.

I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe.

“Looking for something specific?”

The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.

“Their ‘86 album?”

His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting.

“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”

He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.

I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.

With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.

“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”

I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”

He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”

My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”

“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.

“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”

When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.

I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”

His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”

Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot.

I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip.

Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.

“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.

“I’ll take the lot.”

Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”

Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.

He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”

The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.

“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.

“Anything will do, love.”

I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.

He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”

My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged.

“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”

My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”

He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same.

When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in.

I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened.

I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged.

I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back.

Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place.

(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)

Matty.

“What you smiling at, weirdo?”

I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face.

“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket.

“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.

“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.

“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”

“Tetchy.”

I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside.

“You coming then?”

With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”

…

My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.

Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.

So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around.

I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying.

He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.

I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.

‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.

Still, today more than made up for it.

The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.

Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too.

I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.

“You!”

Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie.

“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”

The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”

Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met.

“Got any more tapes for me then?”

My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”

He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that.

I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”

Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin.

“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”

“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet.

“What I said, in’t it?”

He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.”

“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”

I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”

My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”

“Rob?”

I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”

Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.

“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.

“Give me one of your favourites.”

“Mine?” I blinked.

He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him.

I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow.

I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view.

Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.

Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music.

“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”

Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”

He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again.

I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”

With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.

“You play?”

“Hm?”

My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”

His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”

Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”

Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”

He quirked a questioning brow.

“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”

I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”

“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.

Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”

His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”

“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”

Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”

“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”

Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.

I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”

And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him.

“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.

#the 1975 #matty healy #x reader #fluff #flirting #humour #fic #writing #plot #matty #the 1975 band #y/n #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #reader #oneshot #imagines #heyidkyay

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 months

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Datura Pt 10

Summary: Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you realize what you have to do to ensure you and Rhys survive the Mountain.

Content Warnings: Character Death (not MC), blood and gore, canon typical violence.

Author's Notes: Sorry ya'll I got sick twice and then got hit with a massive case of writer's block. I think I rewrote this twice and stared at a blank Google Doc for like three days before I managed to get it to make sense. Thank you all for your patience! <3

Previous Chapter , Masterlist

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Every step back into the dark, the torches fewer and farther between, is both a relief and a pressing weight on your shoulders. Relief because you’re away from Amarantha’s cruel gaze, away from the leering stares of the crowd and your cousins; a relief because there’s a High Lord waiting for you to come back. You’d never admit it to him, but his presence is soothing, grounding--something you desperately need after the mess in the Throne Room.

The guards are in no hurry, unlike your initial removal from your cell; all four of them move in sync, having done this thousands of times. It must be a lot of work, tending to every person that Amarantha deems unworthy of her court--it has to be a lot, if the amount of locked cells you pass are any indication.

You keep your head to your chest as best you can around the collar, eyes pinched to avoid the constant change in lighting. They’ll adjust soon.

It’s because you’re focused on not tripping that you don’t see the guards ahead of you stop until you slam into the back of one of them. You reel backwards, expecting to be shoved or punished for the stumble, but the guards don’t react at all. They remain frozen, staring straight ahead.

A glance at the ones behind you to confirm they look the same; it’s as if time has come to a halt.

“Um, hello?” You risk waving a hand in front of one of their faces, fully expecting them to grab your wrist and throw you, but they still remain unmoving. Creeping a little closer, you can see the glazed look in their eyes, like they’re suddenly not seeing. One of them has drool running down the side of his face.

“They can’t answer you.”

You jump with a shout of surprise.

A female’s laugh echoes off the walls, footsteps approaching, though it’s still too dark to see where it’s coming from.

“Did you really think we’d leave you here with Amarantha?” Dagdan sneers as he comes to stand between the first two guards. He leans an elbow against one of their unflinching shoulders.

You can feel more than see Brannagh take up the spot between the other two guards at your back.

“You left with Tamlin,” you say. Maybe they really did get in your head and this is some terrible dream they’ve orchestrated to get into your memories. Despite the pain still throbbing in your skull from earlier, you check to make sure your shields are in place.

“The Throne Room sure,” Brannagh replies. “But the bitch is too busy having a temper tantrum to notice that her toy is even gone. By the time she figures it out, you’ll be gone.”

“Why? What do you want?” You ask, head spinning. They’d planned this. They’d riled Amarantha up on purpose to distract her from seeing them move you. They’d probably been in the guards’ heads from the beginning.

“As we told her,” Dagdan says, pushing off his perch to step closer to you.

You take a step back and bump right into Brannagh’s chest. Her bony fingers wrap around your arms and hold fast, her nails biting into your skin.

“Hybern wants you tested and ready, and I don’t believe for a second that you’re her submissive little pet.”

You focus on your breathing as pain prickles in your fingertips, your jaw, your powers itching to come out and protect you. One breath, and then another. You are in control here; you can do this, just like you practiced.

“Amarantha took my powers,” you say.

“And yet, you still reek of them,” Brannagh hisses in your ear.

“I think that’s sweat,” you retort.

Dagdan grabs the chain still hooked around your throat and yanks, cutting off your air supply as it jerks your head upward. “You think you’re really funny, don’t you?”

You gasp for breath as the metal digs into your skin. “I don’t have any powers!”

In the time it takes to blink, they’ve winnowed you away from the guards, out the tunnels, and to the lip of one of the Mountain’s cave entrances, where Tamlin remains waiting. The light is so blinding you throw your hands over your eyes with a scream that makes the twins chuckle in amusement.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Dagdan says.

Sunlight might as well be flames against your skin, the burning making tears stream down your cheeks, even through the protection of your hands. Amarantha would have been better off blinding you in one fell swoop, it would have been less painful than this.

Indifferent to your pain, or perhaps relishing it, Dagdan yanks your chain and drags you out into the sunlight for the first time in months. Brannagh drags Tamlin in a similar manner, the High Lord still silently following along. You’d imagined this moment a thousand different times, in hundreds of different ways; the feeling of sunlight, of the wind against your skin was foreign, none of your dreams could do it justice. And the crispness of the air, the lack of dirt and decay in your lungs, it was enough to make you fall on your knees and sob--you would have, if you weren’t still being dragged.

“We’ll get to the wall and Tamlin will show us the gaps,” Dagdan explains, though the High Lord of Spring gives no confirmation that he hears him. “Once we find a weak spot, we’ll put you to good use.”

You can’t let that happen. If they find out the truth, they will use it against you, and then Rhys is dead, but there’s no chance for you to make a break for it yet. Trying to keep up with the pace they set so you’re not being dragged is useless, it’s like trying to run and after being caged for so long, your body can’t keep up. The exertion and the heat makes sweat drip off your forehead, the collar around your neck slick with it as it scrapes back and forth against your skin. You’ve got no choice but to follow them until they get to the Wall, and maybe then you can find a way to get free of them.

The Mountain exit has deposited you somewhere in the heart of Spring, though you don’t recognize the blooming forest at all. It must be on the other side of the High Lord’s estate, where you’d never had reason to be. If Tamlin recognizes his woods, his lands, he gives no indication of it, his emerald eyes still glassy and unfocused as Brannagh drags him like a dog on a leash behind her. You’ll have to find a way to get him free of her before you break away from them, there’s no way you can leave him alone with her like that. Amarantha has already done enough to him, you can’t abandon him to Brannagh too.

They walk for a long time, following deer paths through the woods. Though they carry no map, it’s clear they’ve studied one before coming with the way they pick their way around. Brannagh complains about the mud the deeper you all go, but you savor every splash of it against your skin, relish every brush of bushes and vines and the faint song from birds somewhere overhead. It might as well have been a lifetime ago since you’d last touched any of these things, your world shifted to nothing but stone and rock. You’d savor this, stressful as it was, when you eventually have to go back into the dark.

Because you will have to go back.

Even if you find a way to get Tamlin somewhere safe, you have to go back to fulfill your bargain. If you run away now the magic of the bargain could very well kill you.

Dagdan slows as the path ahead splits in two directions and you lean against a large tree to catch your breath, the bark rough against your skin. The noise of your company makes a squirrel jump from its roost and run for cover a few yards away and you watch it with the fascination of someone seeing the world for the first time. How are you supposed to go back into the dark when all this sunlight and fresh air exits? How can you go back into the cramped space of that tiny cell, with nothing but the cold to greet you when there is this kind of warmth in the world? It’s not fair!

“It’s right, you idiot!” Brannagh snarls when her brother hesitates.

“No it’s not,” he counters. “The map said left.”

“It’s right,” Tamlin says, his voice lifeless and slurred.

The twins turn to stare at him for a moment, before Dagdan huffs, “You better not be wrong.”

Tamlin goes back to staring into the sky like he hadn’t heard the threat and you push yourself off the tree to get a better look at him. It’s impossible to tell if he really is just high and delusional or faking it at this point, but if it’s the latter, maybe giving the twins the slip won’t be so difficult. You try to shift closer to him, but Dagdan yanks you away before you get more than a step.

They’re separating you intentionally, it would seem, with Brannagh staying a few feet behind you.

You check your shields as you walk, then the glamor, just to make sure they hadn’t heard any of the plans in your head.

The sun is high by the time the four of you make it out of the woods and into a set of grassy plains that stretch for half a mile before it meets a shimmering wall of magic. At the right angle it's almost invisible, save for a faint pink hue. The closer you get, however, the more your hair rises on end, the more the air smells sickly sweet from the magic used to hold the barrier in place. You’ve never been this close to the Human Lands before, and even though the Wall veils it from sight, you know it's just beyond.

“Ugh,” Brannagh says, crinkling her nose as you all pass through the waist high grass. “I can practically smell those human pests from here.”

Dagdan runs his tongue over his thin lips. “I’ve missed the fun we used to have with our pets, don’t you?”

You shiver under the implication in his tone. You’ve never met a human before, but they sound awfully fragile from the stories and you doubt they’d hold up under anything your cousins could throw at them.

“How close is the nearest hole?” Brannagh demands.

Tamlin slowly turns his head from side to side, golden hair flowing across his temples as he searches for the right spot. “About a mile,” he says finally, gesturing with his chin to the left of you.

The Wall doesn’t look any different from where you stand, but you don’t know enough about the magic used to build it to dispute his claims. Neither do the twins, as they don’t question it, and drag the two of you along the path indicated until you reach the spot. It’s of no help though, because the hole in question is about the size of a fist, just big enough for you to crouch and peer into the forest beyond the magic barrier. It smells different from this side of the Wall, newer yet dead somehow, like there’s no magic at all beyond the barrier.

“I should have figured you’d be stupid,” Dagdan snarls. Turning to his sister he adds, “I told you he was too pretty for his own good.”

You bite back a laugh despite yourself.

Brannagh yanks on Tamlin’s chain like one would a misbehaving dog. “I didn’t think I needed to tell you that we needed to be able to fit through it!”

“Oh,” Tamlin says with a shrug. “Then it’s the other way.”

And so, you go back the way you’d come, and further, to the next spot, larger than the last, but still not big enough for any of you to fit through, to which the High Lord insists there are more if you keep going further. It’s very much the same answer at each spot you find, making you walk back and forth until the path back starts to blur in your mind and the sun begins to set. It’s too dark to go back, especially with the growls of things from the edge of the woods rising to meet you, so they tether you and the High Lord to a large tree while they collect firewood to make camp.

You sink down into the damp earth with a grunt, legs sore beyond belief. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to properly stretch your legs.

Tamlin slowly lowers himself to sit next to you. “There’s a lot of boggie in this area,” he says, not looking at you. He keeps his gaze in the other direction, focusing on some bright flower bushes in the distance. There is no slurring in his speech anymore.

“So this was on purpose?”

He grins, pleased with himself. “I’m not totally useless.”

“It’d be a shame if we accidentally caught its attention,” you muse. There is a fog starting to creep in, stealing the warmth of the day, hiding whatever monsters lurk in the depths of the woods.

“They’re not armed enough,” he adds. “It’d be quick.”

Too quick, but what can you do about it in the end? “Can you get us unchained?”

“I think," he replies with a wince. “You still got claws you can use, just in case?”

“Me?” You say with feigned ignorance.

He risks a glance to where the twins are bickering about something in the tree line. “You don’t think I believe Rhysand wants something to do with you out of the goodness of his black heart, do you?”

You bristle at the words, fangs threatening to slip out. How dare him!

“He clearly means to use you for something, and after that fight with the chimera, I think it’s pretty obvious that he wants to wield you like Hybern did your mother.”

“It’s not like that,” you snarl. Rhys is nothing like Hybern!

“Isn’t it?” He hisses. “Let me guess, he tried to befriend you, acted all concerned about your powers being untested and untrained? He offered to help you get a handle on them, makes sure to run you through all the steps because he’s concerned about your well being?”

He doesn’t let you get a word in before he adds, “He did the exact same to me.”

You run a hand absently over the bargain mark. Rhys was many things but he'd never stoop so low as to use someone like that. It's unthinkable.

“And when I realized how he’d manipulated me, when I stopped giving him exactly what he wanted, do you know what he did?”

You watch the twins continue their argument into the darker parts of the edge of the woods to avoid looking at him.

“He killed my parents, my brothers. I am the only one left.”

That couldn’t possibly be true!

“Rhys gets what he wants, or he makes your life a living hell for it,” Tamlin snarls. “He’s just as bad as she is, he’s just better at hiding it.”

You've managed to reign in your temper until that point. “That’s not true!” You snarl. “He’s nothing like her!”

Tamlin huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “He’s really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he? I bet the second you get out of here and away from them you’d run right back to him.”

You stiffen, not because it’s not true, but because all day the only thing you’ve been thinking about is how you don’t want to go back. Selfishly, greedily, all you could think about was how unfair it was to have to go back, you hadn’t once thought about him.

“He’d do the same for me,” you whisper, hand pressed tight to the bargain mark because you know he would. Without a thought for how long he’d been underground, without a thought for how unfair it was that he couldn’t keep his freedom, he’d come back for you, fight for you. How could you be so selfish and abandon him, bargain or not?

“You can’t be serious,” Tamlin replies. “Why would he come back for you?”

The ink is warm on your skin, a living, breathing thing that doesn’t just mark you, it’s part of you. Part of him. It’s a living tether that flows between your souls, ties you together. It’s him, but it’s you, it’s…

The realization slams into you like a brick. You’d known it too, that morning when Amarantha had taken your powers, something had shifted into place and you hadn’t been able to place it. “Because,” you stammer as you brush a mental hand against that tether, the one that had linked your minds together from the start, that had allowed him to reach for you on Calanmai all those years ago. It had been so easy for him to find you, not because of his powers, but because of what was already there. “Because he’s my mate.”

Mate. Rhys was your mate. It was as if all your questions had clicked into place, why you were always so eager to be near him, and him you, why he’d been so back and forth in the beginning. He was your mate.

Tamlin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause those are titles that mean anything.”

Shit. Your eyes go to Amarantha’s mark on his chest. “I’m sorry for everything she’s done to you.”

He growls, eyes flashing. “Bonds mean nothing. They’re just a way to make us animals that need to breed. They don’t guarantee protection or affection, it might as well be another collar.”

You glance over to where you’d last seen the twins. “So when they’re gone, will you fight her?”

“No,” he says. “I mean to disappear into the Human Lands and not look back.”

“But you can help stop her!” You persist.

“No one can, she’s too strong,” he returns, eyes now flicking to some noise his keen ears hear in the woods beyond you. “And if you’re smart, you’ll go too.”

You’d left your mate with Amarantha. “I can’t do that.”

He shifts so he can get a solid grip on your chains. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

There’s little time in between the moment he starts yanking on the chains, the branch they’re tied to groaning in protest, and the point when Brannagh starts screaming as whatever monster Tamlin had heard approaching finally makes itself known. You know the stories of the monsters Amarantha had unleashed on the courts, but you’ve never seen them for yourself, you have no idea what to anticipate. And truth be told, you’d rather not stick around to learn the truth. You help Tamlin grab the chains and pull until the tree starts to bow and bend under the strain. The chain is rough against your skin, tearing at your palms, but you grit your teeth and plant yourself firmly into the ground as you tug. Between the two of you, it doesn’t take long for the branch to snap off, the tree swinging wildly back and forth as the broken piece of wood goes flying through the air. Your chain slips free, flapping in the wind like a scarf as Brannagh continues to scream.

Tamlin doesn’t stick around to see if they’re being eaten or not, as soon as he’s untangled from the branch, he takes off in a sprint back towards the Wall, to whatever hole is big enough for him to escape through and into the Human Lands. You want to be mad at him for being a coward, but truth be told, you can’t. After all Amarantha has put him through, you hope he can find peace.

You hear Dagdan draw his sword behind you, hear the metal clang against something with claws, but the woods are shrouded in the fog now. Brannagh's armed as well, maybe they’re strong enough soldiers to make it out alive. You’re not going to stick around long enough to find out.

You’re used to the dark, it’s comforting to have nothing but the stars overhead. It had felt like a disadvantage before, but now, now it feels like home. You take off in a full sprint, holding the length of your chain in your hand to keep it from rattling too hard and attracting attention. Tree branches and vines slap at your arms, face and legs as you run, not daring a glance back, and it doesn’t feel all that different from the dream that brought you out on Calanmai, though a few flowers leading the way would have been appreciated this time. You’re moving on instinct more than anything, back the way that feels right.

Soon you stop hearing Brannagh’s screams, though you’re not sure if that means they’re dead, or if they’ve won. You push yourself as fast as you can go, lungs and legs burning in earnest now. You’ve got to make it back, you can’t get caught out here.

The Spring Court is a blur as you find the fork in the road you’d come to earlier and tear down the deer path that should lead you back to the Mountain. Distantly, over the sound of your own ragged breathing, you can hear something moving overhead, a distant flapping sound that’s far too heavy to be a bird. Nothing ever comes into view though, so you do your best to stay in the shadow of the bigger trees as you push through the underbrush.

Cauldron you’re out of shape! You can’t help but stop, hands on your knees, gasping for breath. Sweat drips off the ends of your hair as you bend over, struggling to get your breath back. When this is all over, you’ll take up running, you vow to the Mother.

Time's a ticking thing in your head and you force yourself to keep moving, even if you have to walk until you can breathe evenly again. A couple of steps is still movement in the right direction, still keeps some distance between yourself and whatever threats remain behind you. There’s a clearing up a head that you’ll need to be quick to get through unseen by whatever is flying around above you, you take care to get your breathing under control by the time you make it to the edge of it, and then sprint as fast as your legs can carry you.

It’s not fast enough. Something rock solid and incredibly fast slams into you from behind, sending you flying into the muddy earth with a breath stealing thud. Something with claws drags you up by the back of the neck, laughing, the sound a horrible wheeze of breath that makes your blood run cold. The Attor.

“Look what we have here,” it leers.

Your legs dangle off the ground, body limp in its clawed grip. “Let go of me!”

Darkness ripples in front of you, twisting like a vortex as it spits out the Evil Queen, fire wreathing her claw tipped hands.

Shit shit shit.

She sharpens the flames into points, like twin swords in her hands and she stalks towards you, snarling.

“Wait! Wait!” You plead.

“SILENCE!” She booms. “I’ve had enough out of you, you stupid little brat!”

You twist desperately to get out of the Attor’s grip, but it remains unmoving. If you can’t fight your way out, you have to be smart about this. “My Queen please, let me explain!” You can do this. You can make sure you get back to your mate in one piece, and maybe buy Tamlin the time he needs to escape. You all deserve to be free, there are no exceptions.

The playcatting makes her pause at least, so in a rush you say, “My cousins did something to my guards on the way back to my cell and they winnowed me out before I could even yell for help. I swear I wasn’t trying to escape.”

“Liar!” She snarls, but she doesn’t move any closer.

The Attor’s grip on your neck is bruising, makes your collar bite into your skin hard enough to draw blood. “They led us right into a bunch of boggies and I came back looking for help. Please, you have to save them, I think Tamlin is hurt!”

Invoking her mate makes all her reservations fly out the window. “Where is he?”

“I can take you there,” you say.

Maybe you’ll fulfill your bargain right here and now and let her own monsters finish her off, or maybe there will be such a mess you can convince her that Tamlin’s dead and it’s no use looking for him. One way or the other, you’re buying yourself time, so you take them back the way you’ve come.

Cauldron it feels like your legs are made of bricks by the time you stumble back into the woods. It’s a mess of gore and blood by the time you get back, Dagdan’s broken sword clutched in a hand detached from the rest of his mangled body. You vomit into the bushes when you see what’s left, what you and Tamlin have left them to.

Amarantha goes through the gore, kicking over the corpses of the monsters, searching for any sign of Tamlin among the bodies. You know there’s none, but there’s barely enough of Brannagh to identify, so you say, “Mother’s tits he was right here with them!”

The Queen remains rooted in a pool of blood for a long time before she throws her head back and roars so loud leaves fall off the trees. “My mate!” She wails. “My mate!”

You turn away like you can’t bear to look any more and truth be told, you can’t. Is this what you’ve become? You let them walk right into this trap without remorse, without a second thought, and they were dead. Horrifically, irreversibly dead. Their bodies as mangled as the chimeras you’d killed in the Pit, as mangled as if you had done it with your own claws. This was what you had been worried about in the beginning, this lack of hesitation, this easy decline into the monstrous death goddess your father wanted you to be.

And you’d do it again. It was not a question, you feel the surety of it in your soul. For your mate’s freedom, to fulfill this bargain and to be free, you’d do it again with no hesitation. You would play the monster over and over again.

“I do not smell him here, My Queen,” the Attor says as he sniffs around the bodies.

If his nose is that good he’ll be able to scent his tracks right through the gaps in the Wall. If she finds out he ran from her she’ll never let him have a moment of peace again.

“If he got away, where would he go?” You ask, pretending to look around for tracks. How long would it take for his scent to fade? How much time can you buy him with the Attor sniffing around like a bloodhound?

“He would come back to me,” Amarantha snarls. “My mate would come back to me, he would know better than to go anywhere else!”

“But if he was injured, maybe he’d go to his manor first, for aid?”

Amarantha’s eyes are wild as she nods, panic clouding her judgment. Good, you can use that. “We should head that way, see if he collapsed on the way maybe?”

Her eyes narrow. “Yes, yes I should. You, little mouse, are going right back to your cell.”

Back to Rhys. It’s an effort not to run your hand over the bargain mark, as if touching it might open the bridge in your minds so you could at least feel him at the other end of it. It’s the Attor’s sniffing that keeps you from acting on your impulses. Could bonds smell? You think they might. You have to be careful, have to play up the roll you’ve stepped into to ensure that no one is looking too closely at your motives. You’ve already gotten two people killed tonight, have already been stripped of all your dignity and agency, what is a little more? You throw yourself onto your knees, trying not to think about the blood and gore seeping into your skirts, feigning panic. “Please, please, My Queen, don’t lock me back up again. Please! I want to be useful, I want to make up for my mistakes. Please!”

“You’re wasting my time!” She growls.

The Attor grabs you by the neck again as she motions for him to follow, your skirts dragging through the gore as they set off in the direction of the manor. Despite her threats, she lets you be dragged along as she scours the ground for any signs of Tamlin. There’s none of course, but by an extreme stroke of luck, there is a wounded boggie crawling its way up the hill ahead of you, its blood trail hiding Tamlin’s lack of footprints. By the time it’s dispatched and she arrives back at the manor, the sky is starting to change colors, and you’re trying not to nod off.

Amarantha rips the doors off the manor when she finds it empty. “He can’t be dead! I’d feel it!” She insists to no one in particular.

The stone steps leading into the house look comfortable enough to curl up on and sleep. You give yourself a little shake to clear the thought away as the Attor says, “I’ll try and get a view from above, My Queen.”

Good, he won’t be able to scent Tamlin from the sky and he won’t be able to see him through the wards on the Wall. You’ve bought him a couple hours, you can do nothing but hope that it’s enough.

“Don’t return to me until you’ve found him,” Amarantha orders.

You’re swaying on her feet when she grabs your arm and snarls, “If I find out you delayed my search in any way I will make you wish you were never born.”

You nod, “We’ll find him, my Queen.”

She winnows you both, the empty swirling vortex flying past you before it deposits you back outside the mouth of one of the many caves. Dozens of guards are waiting, more chains in hand. Your hands shake at your sides at the sight of them.

You draw a breath, forcing yourself to not look at them as they approach. You were never really free anyway, none of you would be until she was dead and this Mountain was rubble. “What will you tell my father?”

One guard grabs the end of your chain, the other clamps a pair of binders on your wrist. But Amarantha grins as she says, “I’ll tell him they foolishly crossed you.”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“Then it’ll be our little secret, won’t it, pet?”

----------------------------

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sooverwhitesandpinks · 10 months

Text

Bejeweled

Ceo!Harry Styles x Gf!Reader

Inspired by Bejeweled by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: angst?, fluff at the end, alcohol consumption, i think that's all. i did proofread, just not carefully.

Word Count: 2.1K

guess who finally wrote something! sorry for the months long writer's block, hope you enjoy.

Your phone lit up where you left it on the coffee table in front of you. Keeping your thumb between the open pages of your book, you reached for the device, hoping it was a text from your boyfriend.

You couldn't help but feel disappointed when you realized it was a message from your good friend, Hannah. You weren't disappointed because of Hannah, you were upset that today was becoming another one of those days without a word from Harry.

You knew being the CEO of a major company was a lot of time and dedication, but it had been months of only seeing Harry briefly in the morning and for an hour or so before bed.

As much as you loved him, you weren't getting any of that love or attention back.

'Anya, Erin, and I are going out tonight, you should join us. We haven't seen you in forever!!!'

Hannah's message stared back at you.

She was right. You hadn't been out in forever, and it's not like Harry would miss you tonight. You two were practically coexisting at this point. You stayed cooped up in this massive penthouse, Harry spent his days in his office or at business meetings and dinners. His weekends were taken up by work or trips related to the company.

Still, did you want to go out? You wouldn't mind getting ready for something other than the grocery store.

You decided you would give Harry a chance before answering Hannah. You pressed a few buttons on your phone before bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" Harry answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey! How's your day going?" You replied, happy to hear his voice.

"It's fine so far-" You heard him shuffle around before giving someone an instruction. "Look honey, is this important? Because I've got a lot going on and my next meeting starts in a few minutes."

"Oh," you paused for a moment. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight? We haven't really seen each other the past couple months."

"I've got a business dinner tonight, but feel free to order in whatever you want. You know I don't mind. Was that all?" He asked.

You took a second before answering. It was one thing to practically ignore you, but it was another to make you feel unimportant. You remember when Harry made you feel like a priority, and now your relationship had been reduced to a 'good morning' and a 'goodnight'.

"Yeah, that's all," you shook your head, a sad smile tugging at your lips.

"Alright, I'll see you this evening," Harry said.

"I wouldn't count on it. I'm going out, don't wait up," you told him before hanging up.

'I miss you guys and I definitely need a night out! Where and when should I meet you?' You texted Hannah back.

5 hours later, you stood in front of the full length mirror in your closet, running your hands down the vintage Versace mini dress you picked out for some event of Harry's but never ended up wearing.

You felt good, great even. You took a long, relaxing shower. You had a glass of wine while you did your makeup and put every hair in place. It had been so long since you put time into yourself like this, you'd forgotten what it felt like to sparkle.

You grabbed a small handbag and walked out of the large closet. As you made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall, you heard the familiar sound of Harry's keys hitting the small table by the door.

With a smirk, you stepped around the corner and into view. You pretended to hardly notice Harry's presence as you grabbed your phone off of the couch and texted Hannah that you would be leaving in a few minutes.

You heard Harry's footsteps halt as he saw you. You waited a moment before looking up at him. You glanced down at the time on your phone.

"It's only 8:15, I thought you'd be at dinner," you said nonchalantly, slipping your phone into your purse.

"I moved it up a few hours so I could get home earlier," he answered, shrugging off his suit jacket.

"Ahh," you nodded, starting to walk past him and toward the door. He gently grabbed your arm and you let him, looking up at him expectantly.

"You're still going out?" He asked, brows furrowed. For just a second, you felt bad about leaving. Then you remembered how easily he dismissed you earlier on the phone, and how easily he's dismissed you for awhile now.

"Yeah, I told Hannah and the girls that I'd meet them in a few," you replied, watching his eyes scan over your body and back up to your face, pausing on your lips.

"But I moved my meeting so I could see you," he responded, his fingers slipping from your arm to your hand. His touch felt good, you'd missed him, but he can wait another night. You finally felt like you weren't the one left hanging.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to stay home the one time I made plans because you suddenly found a way to fit me into your tight schedule?" You tilted your head, matching his pout.

"Besides, you're seeing me now. I clean up nice, huh? I bought this dress for one of your events but it'll do for tonight."

"Honey-"

"Is this important? My ride is downstairs," you said, keeping your eyes on his. You watched it click as he realized he asked you the same thing hours ago. You raised a brow, pursing your lips.

"I guess not," he took a step back. "You look beautiful, love. Have fun tonight."

"I will," you smiled, finally walking to the door and stepping out of the house.

✨ 🪩 ✨

"I"m just a little tipsy," you slurred, holding up your thumb and pointer finger.

"Me too!" Hannah squealed, throwing her arms into the air.

Anya and Erin were still out on the dance floor, but you and Hannah were tucked into a large circle booth in the VIP section of the club.

You sat with the members of some band you'd never heard of. They were apparently a big deal. Hannah was obsessed with them and had scored herself a seat on the lead guitarist's lap.

You sat between one of their friends and the drummer, who was high out of his mind, chatting away with some other people that'd made their way up to VIP.

"You wanna dance?" Hannah asked, grinning wildly from across the table.

"Definitely," you nodded. You turned to the drummer beside you who was blocking your way out.

"Moonstone!" He smiled when you turned to him. He'd been calling you that all night, something about your aura. He referred to Hannah as Amethyst and Erin as Sapphire, you didn't catch Anya's.

"Can I squeeze past you?" You asked, pointed toward the outside of the booth.

"Of course," he nodded, nudging his friends out of the booth with him so you could get to where Hannah stood.

As soon as you were free from the table, one of your hands was grabbed by her as she dragged you down to the dance floor. Your other hand was looking at your phone for the first time all night, checking to see if Harry had said anything.

You saw two messages from him.

'I took tomorrow off. I figure we could spend the day together.'

'I miss you and I'm sorry for not making you feel as important as you are. I'll hopefully spend the rest of my life making it up to you.'

Despite the frustration you felt for months because of him, you felt a lot of relief in that moment. He did still want you. He still wanted forever with you. It wasn't something you realized you'd doubted until now.

'I hope you know I expect an apology in person too.'

You texted back. Simple enough to communicate that it will take more than a text message.

'And I'm excited to spend tomorrow with you. But I'm drunk so can we start around noon?'

You added, finally looking up from your phone as Hannah pulled you deeper into the sea of dancing people. You realized she'd located Erin and Anya.

"You still wanna dance?' Hannah shouted, starting to feel the music. You hadn't noticed it before, but it was deafeningly loud.

"Maybe just for a little while. I'm getting tired," you replied, suddenly not wanting to be anywhere but home.

"Are you okay getting home by yourself?" She asked.

"I'll just get an Uber," you shrugged. "I'll pretend to be on the phone with Harry if the driver seems shady."

"Fair enough," she laughed, turning more towards Anya and Erin.

"Bye ladies, it was fun seeing you. We gotta get lunch sometime soon," you leaned in between Erin and Anya to speak, hoping they'd hear you well enough.

The two drunk and sweaty women gave you a half hug, agreeing to lunch and wishing you a goodnight before they went back to senselessly jumping to the music.

You ordered the car as you walked to the door, only stepping outside when the app said it arrived.

The ride was short and your driver was nice enough.

As you entered your building and pressed your button on the elevator, you wondered if Harry was awake. You hadn't heard from him in almost an hour when he'd texted you to say noon was fine and to be safe.

You walked through the house, stepping out of your shoes at the door and carrying them with you to the bedroom. Harry sat up in bed, his computer in his lap as he typed away at something you were sure was work related.

"Hey Honey," he said softly as you entered, closing his laptop and setting it on his side table.

"Hey," you smiled, walking straight into the closet to change.

As you stepped out in your pajamas, Harry pulled open the covers, waiting for you to crawl in beside him.

You slipped under the duvet and dropped your head onto his lap, eyes closed. You heard him rustle around in the drawer of his nightstand before he pulled something out and closed the drawer.

You opened your eyes in time to see him pull a makeup wipe from its package.

"How was your night?" He asked, lowering the wipe to your face as he started to gently remove what was left of your makeup. It was something he used to do for you after his work events and charity galas. Or when the two of you would stumble in drunk after a night out.

"It was a lot of fun," you answered honestly. Those four or five hours were fun. You saw your friends and felt good about yourself.

"I'm glad," he replied, still brushing the wipe across your skin.

"How was yours?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"It was alright. I did a lot of thinking," he waited a bit before adding. "I missed you."

"But you didn't have to, Harry," you sighed. "I've been here the whole time, and it took me doing something for myself, for once, to get your attention."

"I'm so sorry, Honey. I've been terrible. I've just been so caught up in work and trying to land this account," he started explaining.

"I know, trust me, I do. That's why I haven't nagged you about it, but I deserve to feel like a priority, Harry. I know your work is important, but I should be too. We've been coexisting for almost two months now. We're supposed to be a team," you finally told him what's been on your mind.

"We will be, we are," he finished wiping your skin, now taking your face between his hands as he looked down at you. "You're it for me and I'm sorry for making you doubt that."

"You should be. I'm a goddamn prize, you know?" You told him with your tired tipsy rasp. You lifted yourself from his lap, sitting up to face him.

"Of course I do, Honey. You're a diamond, a pearl, a jewel," he grinned, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

"I love you," you said softly, looking into the eyes that finally felt familiar again.

"I love you too," he leaned forward, closing the short distance between you.

Masterlist

Harry Styles Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #bejeweled #poc!reader #plus size!reader #gender neutral reader

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kaminocasey · 9 months

Note

Oh my, your post about Tech's soft voice got me swooning! (It's true though, he has a lovely voice) So, if it's alright with you, I'd like to make a request for a fluffy Tech x Reader fic. Maybe it's one of your first times sleeping in the same bed as Tech, and in the morning, he really doesn't want to let you go. He so rarely gets this kind of affection, so he's just holding you, whispering sweet nothings trying to get you to stay. Thank you so much, you deserve all the love and praise!

Hi! I'M SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! (Literally 9 months, I'm the worst lol, please forgive me!) I'm gonna try to get back to a point where I can open my requests again!

I got hit with massive writer's block for Tech and then After that finale, it got harder and harder to write for him lol. Hopefully this makes up for it? I got a sort of idea for a series... so Lemme know if you think it's something you guys would want??

Soft Mornings

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; smut-ish? suggestive themes

Taglist Form

You feel Tech’s warm body against yours before you open your eyes, snuggling against his chest more, your bottom brushing up against his length.

“Good morning, darling.” He chuckles, softly, kissing your neck.

Your previous night had been so perfect. Better than anything you could’ve ever imagined. Parts of it start to flood your memory, making your face go warm.

“Good morning.” You bring his hand to your lips and he snuggles his nose into the crook of your neck. “How did you sleep?”

You’d been slightly afraid that Tech wouldn’t be able to sleep well since he’s never slept next to another person before and you know how much he enjoys his space. But when you’d offered to go back to your bunk, he’d only pulled you close to him, bringing the covers up over the both of you and asked you to stay.

“I think I slept better than I’ve ever slept before.” He admits and then starts to smile. “I’m afraid I will not be able to sleep alone now.”

“Oh no. How awful. Guess I better take up permanent residence here.” You laugh.

He chuckles again and you roll over to face him.

“Hi.” You smile up at him.

“Hello.” He smiles back, his voice still soft and raspy in a sleepy way, making you melt like putty.

His hair is sticking up in different directions and you imagine yours is too, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Kissing him softly, you run your hands up to cup his face, which is starting to feel slightly stubbly from not having shaved in a few days. You take note of how good the five o’clock shadow looks on him.

“I’ve got work soon.” You sigh against his lips.

His sigh matches yours. “Don’t go.”

You laugh, softly. “I have to.” He wraps his arms around your lower back, pulling you up against him. “I’m sure I could persuade you to stay.”

“Try.” You whisper.

He pushes you onto your back and hovers above you, smiling so softly down at you. “All I’ve wanted since meeting you is to wake up next to you. It’s a new feeling for me… But getting to wake up next to you, and seeing how absolutely endearing you are with ‘bedhead’ and your sleepy voice, makes me want nothing more than to do this every morning.”

You look up at him, wide eyed at his confession. Tech’s not been one for being forthright with his emotions, so this is new. And it melts your heart. You’d love to hear him tell you these sweet nothings every day.

As if he can read your thoughts, he kisses you again. “I know I don’t speak about how I feel a lot… but I feel safe here… with you.”

Your chest tightens and you pull him toward you, crushing your lips to his. He groans softly, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, anchoring you to him and the bed.

“Let me convince you to stay.” He murmurs, kissing your neck.

“I don’t need any more convincing.” You smile with a hum. “I’ll call in and we can stay in bed all day.”

“Sounds lovely.” He nuzzles his nose against your jaw as he presses his growing length up against your already eager warmth, making you gasp softly.

“Maybe you could use… other incentives to make me stay.” You tease him and he chuckles, darkly, catching on immediately.

“Say no more, darling.” He nods as he shows you just how much he loves waking up next to you.

You really could get used to this… perhaps one day, he’d leave the war and battles behind to be safe here in this bed with you… where nothing bad could happen to him, and you wouldn’t have to worry so much every time he leaves.

Perhaps, he’ll choose these soft mornings with you, too.

TAGS:

EVERYTHING @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

#tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #asks #requests

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wifeyifey · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could you please do a one-shot where Crosshairs and his gn! human crush get seperated mid battle. He tries to find them and when he does? They're covered in energon. He thinks they're actively bleeding out so he, in a panic, confesses his love for them, thinking they don't have much time left

And then Y/N reminds him that humans, in fact, do not bleed energon, and that they're fine and love him too

I was wanting to do this prompt before it was requested!! I love this!

Sorry it took so long babes!

Crosshairs x gn!crush!reader

Mostly fluff.. slight tweaking of the prompt cause I'm working through my writers block

“Shit,” Crosshairs said as he was shot in the shoulder. This mission has gone completely sideways and Crosshairs is uncomfortable with the fact that he doesn’t have you in his field of vision. You guys never separate and this was just as uncomfortable for you as it is for him. Hound was trying to call out to him to see if he was ok as he took down the last con in their area. “Yeah, yeah. Just a scratch. You got eyes on (Y/N)?” Crosshairs grumbled out. “No. I think short-stuff is with Bee. We should head out, this area is cleared,” Hound said as he and Crosshairs transformed into their vehicles and raced out following the sound of gunfire in the distance.

You were with Cade and Bee at least and that put you in slight ease as you weren’t alone. You and Cade were running for cover when massive bullets were raining down on you both. Bee was covering you guys waiting for some kind of backup.

“(Y/N), I’m going to grab one of those big guns, we have to help Bee!” Cade yelled. The gunfire was so loud and you can feel a tightness in your chest. Usually you don’t have this problem when it comes to the fights, but you were getting scared not seeing Crosshairs. Cade noticed your erratic breathing and immediately knew what was wrong. He put his hands on the sides of your face and made you look at him. “Hey, hey, hey. I know you’re scared right now and you and I both know Crosshairs is fine. This ain’t his first rodeo and this ain’t your first rodeo, right?!” you nodded your head trying to work on your breathing, “We’ll see ‘im again, we just need to clear the area, ‘K?” You nodded again and felt yourself easing up as Cade told you his plan to get one of the guns from one of the dead cons nearby. Cade ran off from your safe place and went towards the con.

Bee was knocked off his feet and he landed close to where you were hiding and landing on top of the dead con that was next to you. Some energon from the dead con had splattered onto you when Bee got up and ripped one of the arms off and hit the con that knocked him down. “Eat shit, dick-head!” Bee yelled out. This, however, knocked the con on the ground next to you. The con turned its head and saw you wide-eyed. You yelped at the hand coming to grab you and you couldn’t help but watch it reach out when all of a sudden Cade got his hands on the gun and started shooting at the cons hand, effectively stopping it from grabbing you, but also effectively covering you in more energon.

The con roared in pain and was about to get up it was shot down and Crosshairs came running up to you. Hound was helping Bee finish the last two cons when you were snatched up by Crosshairs. He saw all the energon on you and immediately started panicking inside, but he knew he had to be strong for you and get you somewhere safe and fast. “Oh, darlin’. Yer bleedin’. I gotta get you outta here,” he quickly rambled off as he transformed into the stingray with you buckled in the driver’s seat and he drove up to Cade, “Cade! Get in!! We gotta get (Y/N) medical care now!” Cade heard ‘(Y/N)’ and ‘medical care’ and rushed into Crosshairs. “(Y/N), (N/N)!! You ok? Where are ya hurt-” Cade started rambling but was cut off by Crosshairs. “Darlin’, I need you to stay awake for me, ok? I ain’t lettin’ you die on me like this on my watch.” Cade is still frantically raking his eyes over you looking for any injuries and not seeing anything. He’s confused now, but at this point you’re getting lightheaded from the fumes of the energon so he thought maybe you had a headache. “Hey, Crosshairs-” Crosshairs interrupted Cade as he pulled up to a hospital, “Get them inside now! They’ve probably lost too much blood!” Cade just shrugs as he walks you inside thinking there’s something wrong, just not something as serious as bleeding out.

Hours pass by and you finally come out with Cade with just a boot on from rolling your ankle earlier when you recoiled from the con that came for you. Crosshairs was shocked to see you up and at it without looking like death itself. Crosshairs was still in his stingray when he pulled up to you and made sure you were in his driver seat safely. He drove off, but was soon pulling over and opened Cade’s door, “Right then, off you pop, Cade.” “What? Why are you kicking me out the car like I’m not a friend.” “I need a moment with Y/N and I ain’t doin’ it with you in the car.” Cade heaved a dramatic sigh and got out, but before he could slam the door closed, Crosshairs sped off with you confused. “Crosshairs, what's wrong?” “Alright, darling. I need you to listen and listen well.” You were still confused as to his tone being so serious. “Baby, I thought… I thought that I lost ya. Before I got to tell ya just how much I love ya,” you take a deep breath, “There was just so much blood on ya and all I could think about was getting you to a doctor.” “Blood?” “Yeah, the bright green blood on ya? You nearly passed out from losing so much.” At this point, you had to laugh. Crosshairs was shocked at you laughing at him so he found a safe place to pull over and transform. He scooted to sit on the ground and had you wrapped in his hands. He looked at you with worry in his eyes, “Darling, I’m serious. I thought I was about to lose you,” he nearly whispered. You reached your arms out towards him and he brought you closer to his face. You placed your hands on either side of his face and looking him deep in his eyes, “My love, the green stuff that was on me was not my blood. Humans don’t have bright green blood. It’s red and the reason I almost passed out was because of the fumes of the con blood that was on me.” Crosshairs let out a small breath that he didn’t know he was holding. He finally relaxed a bit and closed his eyes, leaning his head forward a bit. You leaned in and put your forehead against his. You couldn’t help the small giggle that came out, “Thanks for worrying for me big guy. I love you so much and I’m sorry I scared you.” Crosshairs just basked in the warmth of your tiny hands on his face and your head leaning against his. He opened his eyes softly after feeling you placing small kisses on his face and chuckled at the feeling. “You mean everything to me in this god forsaken universe, baby. I’d even go as far and say you’re my sparkmate, love.” You smiled, “Sparkmate, huh? I like the sound of that.” Crosshairs let out a little chuckle and gave a kiss to the entire right side of your face. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to my baby now that I finally have you,” Crosshairs said, “Let’s go home.”

#transformers x reader #transformers bayverse x reader #crosshairs x reader

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odetodilfs · 10 months

Text

I know that I shouldn't... but I love you.

A/N: woohoo, this fic was cut in half by a massive writer's block, but alas, here it is, I hope y'all enjoy this one, it's definitely stepping up my game other than just shameless smut or a short fic.

Pairing: Javier Peña x top!m!reader

CWs: Reader speaks spanish (translations in fic), mentions of vomit (not sexual), smoking, period typical homophobia, conflicted Javier, cumming inside, praising, sub!Javier.

Word count: 3.3k

Please reblog if you enjoyed!

Javier Peña, the manwhore who could fuck a woman almost every night and with ease. He had a reputation for that, but there was a reason on why he did it so often and more often than not ended up getting ever so slightly depressed the morning after realizing that what he and the women he had slept with that night didn’t even know each other, there was no love, there was no nothing, just a shallow fuck. The reason he had one night stands so often was to distract himself from all his troubles: drug lords and another issue, much more personal…

His love for another man.

The truth is, even the manwhore craved love, just not a love society would be supportive of. It all started one day at a bar where he just wanted to get some alcohol into his system to alleviate the stress of the day until he saw a person that caught his eye. Only this time, it was you, a bartender who seemed to be coming at him. The first line between you and Javier ever said was from him: “Hello sir, what do you want to order?” He ordered Vodka that day, he remembered it vividly as you two engaged in a conversation which would lead to a pretty strong friendship and Javier frequenting the bar.

Javier had frequented the bar ever since, looking to spend more time with you as well as drinks. There was an undeniable chemistry between you two since the start, one that Javier was fearful would turn into feelings of love. You talked about teleseries, movies, politics, the situation with Escobar, you both had similar opinions on many matters, so conversations between you flowed nicely. He also talked about last night’s hookup, what he did with the woman that was lucky enough to be approached by him… but with time, you started to feel jealous of these women. Javier was a very attractive man indeed, the mustache and flirty attitude certainly drew anyone close to him. But again, you two had a good friendship, one that neither of you wanted to ruin.

With each night that Javier spent with you, he started to fall for you, and he knew this wasn’t right, well, he thought it wasn’t right. You were a man, so was he, you were supposed to be into women and so was he. He started to have even more hookups than before, now that he was aware of his feelings for you, maybe fucking enough women will make his feelings for you go away but… no.. they only grew stronger.

Then, one night when the bar was quiet and it was just a few people, Javier and you were chatting until he was hit with the most devastating news ever, “Well, I have to go now, I got myself a date” you winked at him as you left, leaving Javier stunned.. he felt like he wanted to vomit, he felt dizzy and felt the urgency to throw up. He almost ran towards the toilet as he vomited into the bowl as soon as he got there. Now his throat was burning and it hurt like fuck, but that wasn’t the pain he was finding unbearable… it was the burning in his heart, you were on a date with someone else..? The thought made Javier feel like throwing up again. This thought was hellish, he knew it wasn’t right, you two wouldn’t ever be something…

Javier couldn’t hold it back anymore, it had been months of falling in love with you and to hear you were going on a date with someone else felt like a shot to the heart. He didn’t hook up with anyone that night, instead, he spent an hour crying on the bathroom floor, for the wrongness of his love, for the fact that he’d never have it, for how beautiful your face looked when you smiled and how he wanted to make you smile every day, but then again, he would never ever be able to. All these thoughts combined with the strong acidic taste from the vomit in Javier’s mouth were making him feel too weak to stand up, so he had to take some not very pleasurable deep breaths, filled with the pungent smell of a public bathroom and he was finally able to unsteadily stand up.

He walked home with tears in his eyes that night as he had another crying session in his bed, the smell of last night’s hookup still faintly in the sheets, which altogether made him cry even more, “Mierda, mi vida es un jodido desastre” [Shit, my life is a fucking mess] he whispered to himself, as he tried to get to sleep.. he looked at one of his pillows, the discarded one next to him “I can feed into my delusions for once… this is a dark night” he said to himself, grabbing this pillow and cuddling it, thinking it was you as he sobbed into it, finally falling asleep.

This was a cycle that repeated itself for months on end, until Javier stopped telling you and about hookups, becoming distant and your conversations growing shallower. You realized this and decided to confront him about it, that he could come to you for help. “Javier, ¿qué te pasa? You’ve been so shallow lately, and so dull” [what's wrong?] you said as you faced him, he was staring at nothing as he had been doing that a lot lately, “No me pasa nada, it’s just work” [Nothing] he lied, but you could see right through him “Come on, sé que no es verdad, ahora dime” [I know that's not true, now tell me] you got more serious now, “You’ll hate me for it, I’d rather not” he replied, “Javier, eres mi amigo, what could possibly make me hate you?” [Javier, you’re my friend…] the space between you filled with an uncomfortable silence, you decided you weren’t getting anything from him, so you tried to lighten the mood. “Anyway… I uh… it didn’t work out with my last partner… it’s kind of sad, but hey, it was fun while it lasted,” Javier still kept quiet, “Anyway… I have to go and serve some customers.. sorry for the inconvenience” you went to serve the people on the other side with the bar with a lump in your throat.

Javier’s brain echoed your words over and over “it didn’t work out with my last partner”, Javier thought to himself.. he had to take a shot with you, the way he yearned you was starting to seep into his work life.. he needed to put an end to it, even if that meant rejection. He stood up as he left the bar and went to his house, conscious that he needed a full night of sleep, so no fucking around once again, the truth is.. he didn’t enjoy fucking a woman he met minutes ago anymore, sure, he could fuck her good and then she’d leave.. but what he really wanted was to please you, forever, he wanted to distract himself from you but he just couldn’t. Another reason he also needed a full night of sleep was to prepare himself for tomorrow… where he would call you and invite you to his house, it was better to confess in private and in person, just to not be publicly ridiculed for his love for another man, in case you didn’t even accept him.

He woke up the next day, looking at the telephone with a feeling of fear… “Solo es una invitación, no es nada… raro” [It’s just an invitation, it’s nothing… weird] he said to himself, which was true, there was nothing weird about inviting your friend to his house, it was a common practice in South America. After getting some coffee into his system, he sighed and picked up the telephone and dialed your number, your voice was heard a few seconds later, “Hello? Who is this?” you asked, “Hey, it’s me, Javier” “Ahh, hey there, what’s going on?” Javier thought about what to say.. he decided apologizing for being a dick yesterday was probably a good move, “I wanted to apologize.. about yesterday.. for being such a dick” he swallowed hard, as for you… you’d decided to forgive him, maybe it really was work, “It’s fine, I was just being too insistent too..” you accepted, the silence remained on both sides, “Can you- do you wanna come to my house? Whenever you wish” Javier asked, you were shocked at the proposal but accepted, “Sure… is tonight good?” you asked, you had a free night shift today, “Perfect actually, see you here then at 9pm?” “Yup, have a good day, Javier” you wished before you hung up.

The day went at a snail’s pace for Javier at work, constantly tapping his shoe, watching the time, even Steve picked up on it, “What’s going on?” he asked as Javier constantly got distracted looking at the clock, “Nothing, just supposed to get some calls from my family that I haven’t got yet” Javier lied,

“Ah okay” he replied absentmindedly as he went back to his papers. The day went significantly slower for you, but definitely not as much as it did for Javier.

At about 20:30 you knocked on Javier’s door, hoping it was the right apartment, the door opened and it was Javier… and he looked absolutely majestic, if that was even possible, the truth was your dates and short lasting relationships never worked out because well… the man you loved was right in front of you, you convinced yourself Javier wasn’t into you so you kept trying to forget him…

“Hey” Javier said, clearly wanting to do more than just an unserious conversation,

“How are you?” you asked, trying to make the situation more comfortable,

“Not bad, you?” “Good too,” you replied as Javier invited you to sit down, he swallowed, “I need to talk to you about something… please for the love of god don’t tell anyone..” Javier looked at you with a desperation rarely ever seen from him. You knew it was serious then. “I won’t, tell me”

“You know that lately I’ve been… weird, distant, lost some of my old habits with you” he started, talking about no longer speaking about his conquests with women with you, no longer being so physical with you… “Yeah, I’ve noticed” “Yesterday.. yesterday you just touched a nerve, it’s… listen.. I might hook up pretty often but I don’t enjoy it anymore.. I really fucking don’t” he continued, “So.. you’re a sex addict?” you asked, really not knowing why he chose to tell you out of everyone he knew, “Carajo…” Javier whispered to himself “I think I’m in love” he said at long last, your eyes jumped, lucky person whoever that was, “¿En serio Javier, eso era todo?” [Seriously Javier? That was all?] you asked with an amused look,

“No” he responded, getting you even more curious “it’s someone I shouldn’t be in love with, someone who’s already taken.. well until recently, but.. that’s not why I shouldn’t be in love with them anyway” he confessed, you were confused, “What do you mean?” you asked the man, Javier sighed,

“I’m…” he started, looking around getting all red in the face, “Eres tú” [it’s you] he said, the room went quiet.

After a few seconds of you being astonished he just got up roughly and said “I knew this was a terrible idea”, you simply were quiet because you were amused at your feelings being returned, “Wait! Javier!” you screamed as you ran to catch up to him, grabbing his sides, “Yo también… I’m in love with you as well.. and I know I shouldn’t be but… but who says we shouldn’t be?” Javier was struggling to take in everything you just said.

“I’m a DEA agent, I’d be imprisoned and you could be killed, and I’d hate to live in a world without you” you looked at him, moved by what he just said. “No one has to know, Javier, we can keep it a secret, we can be friends to the world and lovers to ourselves” you tried to convince him, you seriously loved this man and you weren’t letting him go, not again, not without fighting for him. He thought about this for a second, “I guess I already live a risky life, what’s so bad about some more?” the agent asked with a smile as your lips finally met after months of tension, he tasted very faintly of tobacco, as well as alcohol, but you didn’t mind, you fell in love with the taste in fact.

Your kissing got rougher and more desperate “¿Quieres hacer algo más, Javier?” [Wanna do something more, Javier?], you looked into his dark brown eyes, “Si.. por favor..” he whispered, letting a more submissive side of him show, you were getting ready to get on your back and spread your legs for Javier, assuming he’d want to top on his first time with another man, when suddenly you felt him fall onto the bed on his back, wrapping his legs around you, “Javier.. you wanna be the bottom?” “I’ve dreamt so many nights about you inside me..” he confessed, looking at you with lust filled eyes. “Then let’s make your dreams come true” you whispered to him as you looked for lube in his nightstand, fidgeting with his things until you found it, you put it next to you as you removed your clothes, Javier hungrily removing yours too, he was about to start kissing you all over, but you stopped him, “No, lo haré yo” [No, I’ll do it] you assured him as your lips danced around his torso, worshiping every inch of the beautiful man that returned his feelings of love for you.

You kissed around his nipples, his biceps, his shoulder blades, sucking a hickey or two onto his naked body, it was definitely uncommon for Javier to be this vulnerable. The man moaned and breathed heavily as the kisses on his abdomen didn’t cease. You slowly kissed all the way down to his now rock hard dick, leaking with pre-cum, “Por favor.. do something.. anything” he whined, desperate. You kissed the head of his dick which had him wincing and hissing in pleasure. You then took the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth, Javier let out a desperate moan, he tasted good, salty with a tinge of sweetness and ever so slightly bitter. “You taste so good, Javier..” you mumbled against his tip, kissing it again, “G-gracias-” he managed to sob out, he’d never had his body worshiped like this. You even licked and sucked on his balls, making him go drunk with pleasure.

You licked down his taint and put your tongue against his hole, he tasted good, mostly a faint sweet, he’s probably showered not long ago. You immediately heard him moan loudly as your tongue licked the bundle of nerves in his ass. You started to get more into it, licking the man out, hearing how his moans and grunts slowly but surely started to turn into whimpers. You put your hand on his cock and started to stroke it slowly, making him moan lowly and whimper as you gave the man of being on the receiving end of rimming for the first time. He had done it to a few women who were into it before, but now he understood why they were into it, it felt heavenly, he wouldn’t mind you doing this for the rest of his life..

You stopped after a few minutes and you grabbed the lube and put some on your fingers, Javier was tingling all over with anticipation and fear.. “Javier, do you want to?” you asked him one last time, you could stick to just eating him out and sucking him, “Yes, I do” he answered, you slowly started pushing your index into him, he grabbed the sheets at the intense feeling, your middle finger started to follow, “Ahhh!!” Javier moaned, but you weren’t sure what it was for, was he in pain? You pulled your fingers out, “Javier, are you sure you want this?” you asked, concerned for him, “Yes, I do.. let’s try again” he pleaded, “Alright” you said, putting your finger back into his tight hole, letting him get used to one finger a little longer, you held his right hand with your left one, which was free.

He moaned a little when you put in your second finger, you started to search around for his prostate to start giving him some real pleasure. You knew you had found his spot when he let out a wail of pleasure, “Fuck- more- more” he begged, now needy of that same pleasure. You started fingering him, hitting his prostate with each thrust, feeling his tight hole around your fingers, “Y/n..” Javier breathed out as you slowly started slipping a third finger inside him. You did this for a few minutes as well, pumping them in and out of him.

You pulled your fingers out of his hole slowly as you started to lube up your dick.. until you realized- no condoms, “Shit.. there’s no condoms.. you negative?” you asked Javier, knowing he’d not lie about things like these, “Yes, you?” he asked, “Same here” you smiled at each other, knowing you could proceed. You lined your dick to his hole as you slowly started to sink into him, “Fuck.. yes.. yes..” Javier moaned as he felt you slowly going deeper and deeper. His walls had a vice grip on you as he let out whimper after whimper when you slid inside him slowly. Once you managed to get balls deep, he sobbed in pleasure, digging his fingers into your back.

“Shit..” Javier moaned as you started to thrust into his hole, making him sob in pleasure too… “Javier..” you moaned his name as his soft walls clenched on you, making it feel like heaven. “Is that okay? Can I go harder?” you asked, still mindful that it was his first time, “Por favor…” he begged again as your thrusts sped up, he was in absolute heaven. His nails digged into your back and it hurt, but in a good way. Javier’s tight hole kept clenching around you, clearly you both weren’t gonna last much longer. His eyes were looking directly at yours, he looked so fragile like this, his eyes looking into yours, nails that would leave red scars on your back next morning, this was all so perfect. Each thrust felt magical and made Javier feel like he was on top of the world. “Sí.. justo así..” [Yes, just like that…] you whispered to him, going to his neck and attacking it, leaving a red mark on his collarbone, “Te amo..” [I love you] you whispered to him and those 3 words made him lose it.. you loved him.. “I- I do t-too..” Javier whimpered as he came all over his and your stomach. His already tight hole tightened even more as you were pushed over the edge and spilled your cum deep inside him, you both held each other, overridden by pleasure.

You pulled out and took his face into your hand as you kissed him softly, he moaned at the feeling of emptiness from not having your dick inside him any more, “God, you’re beautiful” you said while you went to kiss his chin, which caused him to moan loudly, “We should go shower…” you chuckled at him, but he shook his head

“No.. tomorrow let’s just wake up early.. I’m too tired” you smiled and roped him into a cuddle, “Okay, fine” you agreed as you played with his hair till he fell asleep on your chest.

You weren’t sure how you and Javier could live as lovers in a world that would hate you for it, but you were hard pressed to try, he was the right one for you.

#javier peña #javier peña x male reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos #top male reader #x male reader

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everlastlady · 1 year

Note

i see a good Striker x reader writer, and my immediate reflex is to request :³

let's say, Y/n is an assassin who happens to be an old friend of Blitø's, but their friendship is in the same condition as Blitzø's with Fizz.

it's pretty messed up, because they had a massive fight before going their separate ways with huge grudges towards one another.

so, when Y/n bumps into I.M.P. (let's say they both had missions in Hell, Striker and Y/n split up, and Blitzø and Y/n accidentally see each other), things get out of hand and Y/n participates in 3vs1 fight, obviously loosing because, well, Blitzø is as strong as Striker, and M&M are just as equally skilled.

Striker, who came back, is quick to join the fight, but seeing how wounded Y/n is, decides to take reins into his hands, and leave. Unfortunately, Y/n gets shot in the hip, and to avoid any more wounds, they get an upper hand on Millie and threaten to kill her.

On that note, each party goes their separate ways, and Striker takes Y/n to the hideout to patch them up, where he confesses his feelings

Sorry if it's too specific or long, but when the imagination hits, it hits HARD!

Thanks and have a nice time of day!!!

Nah, don't apologize I appreciate detailed request because sometimes I get writer's block 💔 and I'm glad you requested, I had fun with this request and I hope you enjoy it. And I agree when the imagination hits it hits hard so I hope some parts hit ya in the gut.

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☕Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, & powerful overlords. Welcome back to another story and request. I hope that you enjoy this story this is the final request that I have finished writing so yipee! I can't write other things which I'll post here soon. If you enjoyed this story please comment, like, or reblog!

☕Word Count: 2323

☕Fandom: Helluva Boss

☕Story Contains Violence

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Striker X Assassin Reader: The Confession.

The assassin sat on the bed. He ran his fingers through his white hair and sighed, he was sharpening his knife. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. He went through his gallery, his yellow eyes landed on the picture of you and him. The cowboy Imp was in love with you, but he didn’t want to scare you. He was too scared, scared to be rejected and ruin the friendship you both had. He was glad to be working with you. To have another assassin by his side. He admired how strong you were and how smart you were. You always came up with brilliant plans. You may not be a highly skilled fighter but you knew how to work a weapon. “ Hey, Strik we got a job. “ He turned around to see you walking up wearing your assassin outfit that you always looked so beautiful in. “ What’s the job darlin’ ? “ Striker put away his phone and stood up. You told him the job was to kill some rich asshole who wanted to buy some stolen property. Striker smirked. “ Sounds like an easy job, show me the picture of this bastard, that we are going to put a bullet in or do you have a plan? “ Striker said. You pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the target which was some wealthy-looking shark man in a dark blue tux and glowing white eyes. “ I was thinking we could poison his wine. He owns a wine company. Tonight he’ll be testing the new product, so I suggest we poison him and he’ll die in front of everyone. “ You said smirking. Oh, how Striker loved that smirk of yours and he also agreed with the plan and nodded. “ Sounds good, darlin’ we’ll just do that. I’ll take care of anyone who gets in our way. “ Striker placed his hand on your shoulder and you smiled placing your hand on his shoulder. “ And I’ll be protecting you. “ You smiled and walked off. Striker smiled and walk off to go get ready; he loved how you always had his back. Sometimes it worried him though because you have gotten messed up protecting him from small to big people. And you had the scars to prove it but Striker knew you were a strong person and nothing could keep you down.

It’s one of the reasons he loved you. Striker got everything he needed ready and whistled to call his horse Bombproof. You walked up fixing your gear. “ Hey, there cutie. “ You said petting Bombproof on the nose. Striker loved how you treated Bombproof, you even went as far as to call Bombproof your son and spoiled the horse. Striker got on the horse and pulled you on. He smacked Bombproof with his tail and you two rode off. You had your arms wrapped around Striker, knowing how fast the cowboy loved to go. You gave Striker the direction and told him more about the plan along the way. You told Striker that you would be posing as an escort and he hated the idea but he knew this was part of your plan. “ Alright, but just holler for me. If that bastard acts funny with you. “ Striker said patting your head. You smiled and walked off, Striker would be the one adding the poison to the wine. You slipped into a different outfit and walked inside. You stared at your target Dovin who grinned when seeing you. “ I guess my men bought me the prettiest little thing. “ Dovin lifted your chin with his finger, and you smirked at him. “ Please to meet you and be by your side tonight. “ You said chuckling. “ Maybe even my bed~, “ Devon said with a wink. You felt sick to your stomach hearing that but you forced a smile. You spent the rest of the day with Devon as he showed you around his home. He took you to the garden and walked about riches, and he talked about the property he was buying. “ Maybe, I could buy you a nice home. You may be an escort but maybe you could be something more~ “ He said leaning down to kiss you. But he was interrupted when one of the servants whispered in his ear.

“ Ugh! They're already here. Fine, I’ll speak with them, get that out of the way and get them out of my home before the party. “ Devon sighed but looked at you with a smile. “ Feel free to explore, my little treat, I have some business to take care of but I’ll be back for you. “ He smacked your ass making you jump. It took you all the strength not to snap at him or pull out your knife. You could have sworn your heard home hissing and rattling. But the noise was gone and Devon walked off. You tried to call Striker but he didn’t pick up so you sent him a text. You decided to walk around the home more and saw some items. “ Maybe after we kill the bastard, Striker and I can pawn some of these items. Could help upgrade the hideout and I could spoil Bombproof. “ You said chuckling. You kept walking around and saw a large white door. You pushed open the door and walked up seeing an interesting book. “ Grimoire? “ You brushed your fingers against the book. “ (Y/N)? “ A voice said making you freeze. You turned and your stomach dropped. “ Blitzo. “ You stared at the Imp, the Imp you were friends with. “ Blitzo… “You said in a cold tone while glaring at him. “ What are you doing here? “ You asked crossing your arms. “ I’m here for that. “ He said shaking his head and sighing while pointing at the book. “ Why are you here? “ He asked sounding a bit hesitant. “ I’m here on a job. “ You simply said. You stared at the book. “ Why are you here for the book? “ You asked picking it up. “ I don’t think that’s none of your concern after what you did. “ He said trying to grab the book from you but you stepped away quickly. “ After what I did!? What about what you did to me and Fizz! Huh! But I guess Blitzo always has to be right, poor Blitzo is the victim. “ You said. Blitz snatched the book from you quickly. “ The name is Blitz the O is silent now. “ He said glaring. “ Changing your name doesn’t fix things and it won’t change the fact what you did to me and Fizz. “ You said digging your nails into the palm of your hand.

“ Let me guess, you're going to be some overrated sell-out like him! “ Blitz said and placed the book in his jacket. “ You have no room to judge Fizz. “ You said glaring. “ And you don’t have no room to judge me, both of you abandon me! “ Blitz said, looking like he wanted to cry. You already had tears brimming in your eyes but instead of using your words. You pushed Blitz, you weren't strong enough to push him back but this surprised Blitz so he pushed you back making you fall to the floor. You glared and kicked Blitz in the leg. The Imp yelps and you stood up punching him in the face. Blitz glared and tears brimmed in his eyes and the two of you started fighting. Not even hearing the loud gunshot that went off. The two of you threw things at each other and kept throwing punches. The large door swung open as you and Bliz stared at each other. “ Sir! “ Moxxie said. “ Blitz, Striker is here! “ But both of them stopped and stared at Blitz and you. “ Striker… “ You said softly. Blitz stared at you. “ You know that ass hat cowboy. “ Blitz said. “ Don’t call him that, he’s a better friend than you ever were. “ You said tackling Blitz, the two of you going back to fighting. Millie and Moxxie tried to get you off of their boss. But you turned around delivering a punch in Moxxie’s face making the Imp fall to the floor. “ Mox! “ Millie yelled and then glared at you while you smirked. She used all her strength to knock you back and you caught yourself on the desk.

You watched the black-haired Imp go check on what you assumed was her partner. “ Looks like those two have a better love life than you Blitzo. “ You said putting some emphasis on the O. Blitzo glared and ran at you. You got out of the way and did your best to fight Blitz but he was just as good and strong as Striker. You didn’t expect the other two Imps to jump in and things got messy for you. “ (Y/N)! “ You saw Striker run in and saw how beat up you look. He hissed and let out a rattling sound. And joined the fight. “ The little vermin and Blitzy want to pick a fight huh? “ Striker did his best to take on the three. You saw that Striker had knocked down Blitzo and Moxxie trapping them underneath the bookcase. Blitz’s gun slid across the room next to Millie who couldn’t get up because Striker knock her to the wall. Striker pulled his own gun and smirked. “ All of you are going to die today, and I won’t have to worry about any of yall getting in my way. “ He said. But you noticed Millie had Blitz’s gun and was about to shoot Striker. You grunted in pain and got up and running. “ Striker! “ You yelled. And when Striker turned around, he heard a loud bang and a thump. He sat that you fell to the floor wincing in pain. He leaned down and turned you carefully to see you were shot in the hip. “ (Y/N)! “ Striker’s heart was racing. He looked at Millie and glared. He walked up and Millie tried to shoot him but the gun was jammed. Striker grabbed her by and throat. “ I will fucking kill you! “ Striker said applying pressure to Millie’s throat. Ready to snap her neck in half. “ Striker, please let her go, and let’s just go. “ You said huffing in pain. Striker looked at you with a sorrowful look and let go of Millie. He carefully picked you up and ran out of the room. Striker and you had vanished from the mansion before the security could get you both. Back at the hideout, Striker was patching you up and you sighed. “ We didn’t get to kill the fucking target. “ You said gruntin' in pain a bit. “ I did… “ Striker said. “ But he was supposed to die at the party and we didn’t get to the party because of… because of what happened. “ You said as Striker finished patching you up and stared at you.

“ I killed him while he was having a meeting with the little vermin. I didn’t know he was with them until they saw me. “ He said looking at you. “ Why would you kill the target when I had a plan? “ You said glaring. “ Because I love you, (Y/N), I love you alright. Seeing him flirt with you made me boil up and then when he smacked your ass. That was my breaking point so I put a bullet in his mouth and head. “ He looked away. “ I understand if you don’t fee- “ Striker cut off by you kissing him. He tensed up a bit but relaxed and kissed you back. He saw the tears in your eyes and wiped them away. As the two of you sat there hugging each other. Glad that you protected each other. After Striker told the client that the job was done. You sat Striker down and told him about your history with Blitz and how the fight happened. “ Selfish bastard. “ Striker mumbled. “ You rest up darlin’ and I’ll go get us some food. “ Striker kissed you and got up leaving the hideout. You lay there in the bed. You thought about the fight you had with Blitz but soon your mind wander to the first fight you had with him, the good memories, and more good memories. You began to weep in bed while hugging your pillow. Striker came back with your favorite food and took you both home. He helped you wash up and you sat in bed eating the food and cuddled up with Striker. The pain and sadness started to drift away. You may have lost your friend, but you had Striker a boyfriend a friend. You smiled letting both of your guys' tails wrap together, it was time to let go of the past with Blitz because you wanted your future to start with Striker.

Bonus:

Moxxie, Millie, and Blitz had to take care of the people in the mansion so they wouldn’t be blamed for the murder. “ Blitz who was that person you were scrapping with before me and Mox walked in? “ Millie asked. But Blitz didn’t say anything, he just kept driving and dropped off Moxxie and Millie at their home and quickly drove off. Blitz went back to his home and opened the door. He saw the note Loona left that she was out shopping with Stolas’s daughter. Blitz sighed and sat down. He shook his head, no he wasn’t going to look through his phone and get hurt like last time. But before he knew it, he was laying on the couch swiping through pictures and videos. Of you, him, and Fizz. He didn’t notice the tears sliding down his face. He missed these memories and he missed you. He stared at the last photo, the last one he took of you was when both of you were attending a party, that night he was going to ask you out but couldn’t because of you did and said. He turned off his phone and hugged the pillow while crying. “ I’m sorry (Y/N)... “ He said while he hugged the pillow and cried.

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dameronology · 2 years

Text

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

p.s no one in this chapter is meant to be reasonable😉

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan.

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here.

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you.

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside.

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side.

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all.

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too.

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised.

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you!

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course.

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment.

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room.

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before.

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad.

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you.

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest.

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead.

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t.

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years.

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem.

Happy New Year.

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

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shepardsherd · 7 months

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Hi guys

I just wanted to apologise for the way I've been the past couple of months

Writers block hit really hard and I struggled so badly all year with that and just things happened elsewhere and everything just got too much for me, to the point where I've stopped writing due to the massive block and I instead threw myself into Diamond Painting and turned to Instagram, Discord, TikTok and Facebook to vent/ show my crafts elsewhere.

I really want to start the new year on good terms. I understand I've done things that are inexcusable and I've stopped messaging you all but i plan to come back, be better and get back into the writing community again, even if the writers block takes longer to get rid of.

I'm not proud of the bad things I've said and the stuff I've done but I want to be the bigger better person and start fresh and just do what I love again: Creating. Making friends. Sharing the love.

My following page has actually started to work after months of showing me random people so, I'll be able to see all your stuff more and interact with ya'll.

I love you guys so much and I'll always be here. Thank you,

Athena/Scarlett/Halina

@abalonetea @antique-symbolism @athensoddcollections @a-had-matter @blackandwhitecircus @bardic-tales @chickensarentcheap @cheadarchesse @coolfroggyfriend @cryscal @dyrewrites @disaster-wip @enchantedlandcoffee @garthcelyn @helathorloki @hxad-ovxr-hxart @irilenaps @insidedamienshead @joshuaorrizonte @ladywithalamp @multi-lefaiye @midnight-blue-moon-princess @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @n1ghtcrwler @owlsandwich @olivescales3 @pheita @perasperaadastrawriting @sergeantnarwhalwrites @toribookworm22 @violetcancerian @vacantgodling @waltzshouldbewriting @wait-a-minute-lassie @werehamburglar @writingmaidenwarrior

#psa

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starshine-hockey-girl · 9 months

Text

The Invisible String

Summary - Rocky is from Texas, looking to make it big as a tattoo artist in NY. What happens when Rocky meets NY Islanders forward Anthony Beauvillier and two people so unalike discover that they have more in common than they think. Will their invisible string lead to love or friendship?

This is my very late entry to the summer fic exchange. Yes, I am aware that it is the middle of October. The "No results and a story" excuse is that I got a huge case of writer's block followed by an ass-whooping of self doubt. However, I powered through it, and then the story just grew into this massively long piece. (17.2K- yikes)

This is written for @jarmorie who requested a reader insert or OC (she/her preferred). fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers pls I would die with Anthony Beauvillier. Jarmorie is also a big Taylor Swift fan so I tried to incorporate as much Swift content as I could.

Acknowledgements and thank yous-

@laurenairay, I can't thank you enough for pinch hitting for me when I missed the deadline. I am incredibly thankful for your endless encouragement. I hope you enjoy your brief, but pivotal cameo

@cellythefloshie - Thank you for the encouragement and embracing my verbose nature.

@dreamofstarlight and @fallinallincurls for sharing their Swiftie knowledge. I hope that I do that I did Queen Taylor justice.

@wyattjohnston - one for organizing these fic exchanges. It's a tiring and thankless task. Thank you for understanding my struggle and not shaming me.

@jarmorie I am sorry that the story was so delayed. I really wanted to write something that give you everything that you wanted.

@pattiemac1 and @penstxgal1968 for being the best support system ever. Seriously, they both deserve writing credit for all of their ideas.

Gorgeous

Inked On Ice Tattoo Shop - Long Island, NY

“Inked on Ice, how may I help you?” Daisy yawned as the shop’s computer fired up and she settled into her chair.

“Uh yeah,” the deep voice on the line answered, “My buddy and I want to get some ink today. Do you have anyone available?” Daisy glanced at the artist's calendars.

“Well, it’s going to depend on size, subject and budget. What do you have in mind?” she answered quickly. After a brief discussion, Daisy honed in on available artists. “Do you want to do back to back appointments or get inked at the same time?” she asked.

She could hear a discussion on the other end. The bland voice in a spirited discussion with another voice with a slight French accent. “Barzy,” the second said with authority, “I do not need you to hold my hand while I get a tattoo. We can get inked at the same time.”

Daisy’s ears perked up at the name Barzy. “Can I get your names?” she asked as casually as possible as New York Islanders Mat Barzal gave his name along with Anthony Beauvillier. The tattoo shop was owned by Cameron Davies, a former New York Islander. Daisy knew that Cameron would want the pair treated with kid gloves. She examined the schedule again and made an executive decision. She would schedule the more complicated tattoo, Anthony, with JD Porter, master tattoo artist, who just had a last minute cancellation. She would schedule the simpler design, Mat Barzal, with Rocky, JD’s apprentice. .

“So Tito is with JD and I am with Rocky? Sounds good,” the NHL upstart stated as they confirmed details, “See you at 6 PM.”

In the cozy one bedroom apartment, Rocky picked up the phone and quickly read the text from Daisy. “Yes….” Rocky whispered to no one in particular. As a tattoo apprentice, paying customers were difficult to come by. The last minute addition would give her just enough to pay her share of the rent. Given that most of her time at the shop was unpaid, Rocky’s contribution to the rent was more symbolic than practical. Kelly made enough to cover their expenses and then some, but Rocky insisted on contributing, even if it was essentially meaningless.

“Rocky!” Kelly screamed, “Are you even listening to me? We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we are going to be on time.”

“Of course, I’m listening.” Rocky replied, “Listen- don’t be mad, but I can’t go with you. I gotta to work tonight. I scored a last minute tattoo.”

“An actual tattoo?” Kelly mocked, “or will it be another night of cleaning and wiping up after the professionals?”

“Ouch,” Rocky replied, “You know that is part of apprenticeship. I have to pay my dues.”

Rocky’s tattoo apprenticeship was a source of contention in their relationship. The couple had moved to Long Island from Dallas as a stepping stone in Kelly’s financial services career. Together since high school, Kelly disapproved of Rocky’s fascination with all things tattoo. The financial analyst with the fast-rising career wanted a partner that would fit into the corporate world. Rocky decidedly did not fit that mold even if Kelly couldn't admit it. The apprenticeship highlighted their vastly different career paths and their relationship bore small fissures as a result.

“Listen,” Rocky pleaded in an attempt to head off another fight about the apprenticeship. Kelly was convinced it was going nowhere. “It’s an actual tattoo so I will get paid,” Rocky explained, “Also apparently these two guys are some sort of VIPs. The fact that Daisy and Cameron are giving one of them to me to ink is a good sign. I can’t turn it down.”

Kelly stood in disbelief and tried to summon anger at Rocky and none came. Honestly, it was a relief to put off introducing Rocky to conservative co-workers a little longer. “Fine,” Kelly said bitterly, “I’ll see you when you get home.”

Two hours later at the shop, Rocky waited patiently to the side as JD inspected the set-up of her station tucked away in the smallest room in the shop. As a mentor, JD held Rocky to a high standard. An Apprenticeship endorsed by him would carry weight within the tattoo community and JD wanted Rocky to be prepared. He gave a nod and Rocky let out a sigh of relief. Together they walked out to the lobby.

Cameron stood talking to the two athletes about his glory days with the Islanders. Rocky could tell right away that both had passed from polite attention to “oh my god, get us out here” by the tone of their voices. After the third “that’s crazy,’ uttered by Barzal, Cameron noticed JD and Rocky standing there. When he waved them over, Barzal and Beauvillier turned to look over their shoulders. Barzal blinked and gulped while Beauvillier offered a shy smile before looking down at the floor.

Rocky approached Barzal and extended her hand to him, “Hi, I’m Rocky. I think that you are with me tonight.”

“You’re…..You’re….. “ Barzal stammered, “a woman.” Rocky took a step back and dropped her hand in disappointment. JD and Rocky exchanged a glance before Rocky let out a sigh. Usually any pushback she received came from men much older than Barzal so she was honestly a little shocked. Mat looked stunned. “Wait, I am getting tattooed by a woman?” he asked out loud.

“Is there a problem?” JD asked as he looked Barzal in the eye.

“Look, I don’t want to sound sexist here, but…..” he started to say, “I just was expecting a man. I am pretty sure the girl who made the appointment said "man.”

“I did not,” Daisy interjected, “I know for a fact I said no such thing.” When Rocky began as the first female tattoo artist in the shop’s history, Cameron and crew did not anticipate the push-back from their largely male clientele. Most guys came in because of the hockey/Islanders connection and well, their views on gender roles were not exactly progressive. The shop had adopted the policy of referring to all of the artists as gender-neutral as possible. Daisy, Cameron’s wife and partner, was especially intentional about it. Other than a few clients shocked to be facing a petite, brunette pixie of an artist, there had been no issues.

Rocky looked to Cameron and back to Barzal. She knew that Cameron would want to keep Barzal as a client but also did not want to face the wrath of Daisy for caving in. She was about to speak when Tito Beauvillier spoke up. “She can do my tattoo,” he spoke softly at first to everyone’s surprise. Rocky turned to face the blonde and studied his face. He gave a gentle smile and spoke louder, “Yeah, I think I want her to do my tattoo.”

“I have to let you know that she is still in her apprenticeship. Just so that you are aware, she may not be able to give you the tattoo that you want,” JD explained. A pained look flashed in Rocky’s eyes and Tito took notice. Rocky hated the implication that just because she was still in an apprenticeship that she was less talented. She sucked in a deep breath that she hoped went unnoticed. She was mostly successful with the exception of Tito. He recognized the frustration of being underestimated.

Then JD turned to Barzy, “It also means that you are going to pay more for my time. It’s up to you.”

Barzal began to hem and haw. His mouth had gotten the better of him and he had stuck his foot so far into it that he didn’t think it would be possible to retrieve. Even if he changed his mind and selected Rocky, the damage was done. Finally Tito spoke again firmly, “No way Barzy. You had your shot at her and you blew it. I want her now.” His eyes fell onto Rocky’s face and he gave a slight nod.

Rocky laughed out loud, “Well then, let’s get to work.”

The tiny brunette led Tito to her small section of the studio. She pointed to the table and chairs in the corner. He sat down as she picked up a notebook to take notes. “I have a few questions,” Rocky began as the scent of his cologne wafted into her nostrils. She inhaled and let out a small moan before she realized it. Tito cleared his throat and Rocky blushed in response. “The notes say that this is your first tattoo. Is that correct?” she asked in earnest, “What made you decide to do it today?”

Tito blinked slowly and thought. He hadn’t anticipated the question and was stumped for an answer. Finally he spoke, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but never got around to it. When Barzy said he was coming, I decided that I would go ahead and do it.” Rocky nodded her head as she listened.

“So do you have a design or an idea in mind?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I found this on the internet and thought it would be cool,” he answered as he fished his phone out of his pocket. Rocky waited patiently as he scrolled this phone. Finally he found the picture and held his phone out to her. She took the phone and looked at the picture.

Rocky blinked slowly and zoomed in on the picture. Internally, her mind raced with thought “No fucking way”, but her reasoning kicked in. Technically, it would be a challenge which pleased her, but something just didn’t sit well with her.

She looked up to see him looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked. Rocky flashed a smile similar to a mother gave a child when presented with a treasured piece of artwork.

“You don’t like it?” he questioned.

“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly.

“You didn’t say it out loud, but it’s what you were thinking,” he countered.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she responded, “You are a paying client. If you want that design, then that’s what we will do.” Rocky bit her lip and paused before speaking again, “Let me talk to JD and get his thoughts. I want to be sure about some of the technical aspects.” She was trying to buy time to think of ways to politely talk Tito out of his design idea. Rocky walked over to JD’s station just as he was placing the stencil on Barzal’s arm.

“Hey, before you get started,” Rocky started, “Can we go over his design?” They walked away and began an animated conversation.

Tito looked down the hall at Rocky and watched intently. Her hands gestured wildly as she spoke with passion. He couldn’t make out the words, but whatever she said, it was said with conviction. Barzal nudged Tito with his arm, “So she is…… uhhhh…. different.” Tito continued to stare without answering. “Beau!” Barzal said loud enough to draw the attention of JD and Rocky.

Tito was caught staring at Rocky before he quickly turned around to face Barzal with a scowl. “Did you have to yell?” he spoke softly.

“You weren’t answering me,” his friend replied with a laugh, “I don’t like to be ignored.”

Tito looked back over his shoulder quickly before he answered, “Technically, it wasn't a question, but a statement. Yes, I agree. She is quite unique. By the way, what was up with your attitude earlier? You think she can't tattoo because she is a woman?"

"No, that’s not it,” Barzal shot back, “I had a big, burly guy named Rocky in my head so when the pixie queen of tattoos came out, I was surprised. I put my foot in my mouth.”

Tito began to respond but noticed the duo of tattoo artists were walking back to them.

Rocky gave what could be best described as her “customer service” smile and gestured to Tito to go back into her section. He gave a shrug to Barzal and followed her. Then he turned around to Barzal who watched, “You know what you need to do.” Barzal nodded and followed JD back to the table.

The sound of Barzal’s soft yelp and the buzz of JD’s tattoo needle floated into Rocky’s section as they sat down again.

“Soooooo…” Tito smiled.

“So now that I had the technical questions I had about the design answered. I can certainly do it for you,” she smiled.

“Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ hanging in the air?” Tito smiled.

“There is no but, you want the design then I will give you the correct one,” she replied coolly.

“Rocky, tell me the truth,” Tito urged her to answer.

“How does he know I am lying?” she questioned herself. She looked into his eyes and saw his genuine concern. She paused and thought about her answer. For some people tattoos were just not that deep, but she got the sense that Tito wasn’t one of those people. She decided to flip the script. “What is it about the design that you like?” she asked.

“Well, I like the black and gray,” he began. When she nodded in understanding, he continued, “I liked the logo because I play for the Islanders” When her nose scrunched ever so slightly, he asked, ”What do you not like about the design?”

“This is a design for every wannabe hockey bro that wasn’t good enough to make it to the NHL,” she blurted out, “Why do you want to look like every other Goomba out there? This design tells me nothing about you as a person. It’s bland and generic and that’s not you. You’re not bland and generic.”

Tito laughed, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Rocky’s eyes flashed up and held his gaze, “Look, maybe I should take the easy money and give the tattoo you want, but that’s not the kind of artist I want to be,” she answered with passion, “I want my work to mean something, both to my client and to me. It’s probably not going to make me “successful”, but that’s really not my goal anyway.” She sighed dramatically, “And that’s not even the most obvious objection to it.”

“And what’s the most obvious objection to it?” Tito questioned as he studied the design again.

“When is your contract up? Do you have some sort of non-trade clause?” she asked plainly. He blinked slowly. She continued, “Seriously? When is your contract up?”

“2024,” he said softly as he began to process what she was saying, “I have another season and a half.”

“And you’re sure that they are going to re-sign you?” she prodded, “I don’t know too much about hockey so I don’t know if you are good or not. I do know that tattooing your team name on your body seems like the hockey equivalent to tattooing your girlfriend or wife’s name on your body. It’s a lovely gesture at the moment, but what do you do when things go south?”

Tito gulped and spit out, “I see your heart and soul is as black as your jet black hair.”

Rocky sat up straight, “Would you rather me not say anything?”

“No, you’re right,” he laughed, “You’re totally right. It looks like I am not getting a tattoo, at least tonight.” They sat silently and looked at each other. Both of them sizing the other up. Finally Tito spoke, “So if you think this design is trash, what design do you think I should get.”

“Something unique, something that tells a story about you,” Rocky pondered out loud.

“Unique? What’s unique about me? I am just a guy who plays hockey,” Tito challenged.

“Nah, you are so much more than that,” Rocky answered a little too quickly.

“How can you tell?” he quizzed.

“That twinkle in your eye,” Rocky smiled, “There is a whole world hidden behind the twinkles in your eyes.”

Tito leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I could say the same about you.”

Rocky blushed momentarily before the vibration on her phone drew her attention. It was a text from Kelly letting her know that he would be home late. His department decided on dinner after drinks. Rocky shook her head and silently admonished herself. She wouldn’t exactly call her behavior flirting, but it definitely wasn’t strictly professional. Rocky looked up into Tito’s soft blue eyes again. She was right. There was a whole world hidden in there. A world that she wanted to know more about.

“I could design something for you,” she blurted out before she processed the thought.

“I would be honored,” he answered quickly, surprising himself.

“So tell me about yourself, Mr. Beauvillier,” she leaned forward and put her chin into her hand while her elbow rested on the table.

“Well, I was born in Quebec….” he began.

She held up a finger and grabbed a pen and paper to write notes and sketch ideas. She motioned for him to continue and he did. Every once in a while he would lean forward to sneak a peek at what she wrote down or doodled. She pushed him away with a playful shove and smile

An hour later Rocky jumped at the sound of JD’s loud knocks. “Hey,” he said with a frown on his face, “We’re done in here.” Tito looked up with a smile. JD. grunted and turned around.

“What’s his problem?” Tito nodded his head at the door.

Rocky shrugged her shoulders, “He’s probably pissed that he is going to miss his cut of my fee.” Tito tilted his head in question. “Since he is my mentor, he gets a cut of my fee along with the shop,” she explained, “No tattoo, no fee.”

“If it’s about the money, I am happy to pay,” Tito offered

Rocky neatly piled up her things. “He’s probably pissed too since he told me just to do the damn design.” she added. They walked out together and waited as Daisy cashed Barzal out.

“Beau,” Barzal popped off, “What? Did you wimp out?”

“Nah,” Tito answered, “I convinced her to work with me on a custom design. I am thinking of a half sleeve to start that we can add onto later down the road.” JD’s eyebrows raised and Rocky shrugged her shoulders. Barzal turned to them, “What do you think? Pretty badass, huh?”

Rocky suppressed a giggle, “Oh, totally. You’re like the Lion King. Should I call you Simba?” Tito guffawed until Barzal shot him a look.

“Hurry up so I can pay, Simba,” Tito joked. Barzal casually flipped him off and turned to pay.

“Pay for what? You didn’t get a tattoo?” Rocky said in a stunned voice.

“Yes, I do need to pay. We were in a consultation. JD, what’s the price per hour for consultations?” Tito looked over to ask Rocky’s mentor.

“One fifty,” he answered tersely. Rocky bit her lip. He quoted a rate that was double her normal rate and Tito hadn’t blinked an eye. Of course, she knew that JD’s reasons were not altruistic at all. A higher rate meant a higher cut for him and the shop. It also meant that he could now charge Barzal double his normal rate for the basic tattoo he did. Rocky admired his hustle, even if she felt guilty about Tito paying more than necessary for it.

After Barzal paid, Tito cleared his throat loudly and nodded to Rocky. Barzal shot him a look of confusion. Tito muttered under his breath, “apologize”. Rocky’s head shot up and she looked at Tito who shrugged his shoulders. Barzal nodded in understanding.

“Uhhhh, Rocky?” Barzal started, “I apologize for earlier. I really wasn’t trying to knock you as an artist. I really was just expecting a big, burly guy based on the name. No offense meant.” Rocky smiled and looked down as she contemplated how long to make the hockey phenom squirm. “Seriously, I am not really a sexist pig,” he continued, “I have much respect for women.”

“Sure you do,” Rocky laughed.

“I swear I do,” Barzal squeaked, “Tell her Beau.”

Tito paused to allow him to sit in his discomfort, “I can attest that Barzy is a great admirer of women who happened to stick his foot so far into his mouth that he is choking on it. I am not sure if it's because of the nasty toe jam or God-awful odor.” Barzal’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Rocky giggled, “It’s okay, Simba. I am just busting your balls out of amusement. A little bit of friendly fire, I suppose.”

Barzal shot Tito a glare. “Thanks. It looks like I may need new friends these days,” he smiled as the group walked toward the exit. Rocky and Tito exchanged numbers, which did not go unnoticed by Barzal. When he questioned Tito in the car afterwards, Tito dismissed his comment. “It will be easier to set up time to go over ideas directly with her.”

“Whatever you say,” Barzal retorted, “I am sure it has nothing to do with the puppy dog eyes you make when looking at her. No, not at all.”

Inside the tattoo parlor, Cameron buzzed about the potential exposure the shop would receive if Barzal posted his new tattoo on social media. JD looked like a deer caught in headlights. While a master tattoo artist, JD was woefully behind the times on social media, considering it an unnecessary evil. Rocky shook her head, “I’ll take care of it.”

Kelly was sitting on the couch when Rocky arrived back at their apartment. She walked over and kissed the top of his head as he watched Squawk Box on CNBC. “How did the dinner go?” she asked softly. She began stripping as he watched the television.

“Huh?” he answered as he glanced over at her bare torso as she stripped off her leggings.

“I said how did the dinner go? Were you able to talk to Ross about your idea?” she asked as she walked into the bedroom to grab one of his large t-shirts to sleep.

“Oh yeah,” he answered, “We just need the go ahead from Grant and we will be good to go. Hey, I brought you dessert from the restaurant.”

Rocky walked back out and smiled, “That’s great. We both got good news tonight.” Kelly had turned his attention back to the television. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, opened the take out bag and stared at the cheesecake in the container. It was covered in strawberry syrup. She looked at Kelly in disbelief and then shook her head. Rocky’s favorite was, indeed, cheesecake, but she was allergic to strawberries. She had been since childhood. Kelly knew this, or at least had been told at least a dozen times. He probably scanned the menu, saw the cheesecake and ordered it in hurry. It was the little details that he ignored that drove her crazy. When he was in his "work zone", he lost all focus on anything else.

She placed the cheesecake into the refrigerator. She mumbled something about going to bed. She glanced at her phone and saw the text notifications.

Rocky looked at her phone and her eyes widened. She had almost 1,000 new followers including Tito, Barzal and a half a dozen other Islanders.

Thursday- Inked on Ice- Long Island

JD did a double take when Rocky passed him on her way to her station. Rocky’s de facto uniform for work days was a vintage concert or slogan t-shirt with distressed jeans. Today, however, she wore form-fitting black leather pants paired with a crisp white button down shirt. The shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hot pink spaghetti strap camisole. Her hair had also been artfully piled atop her head with a hot pink bandana in the “Rosie the Riveter” look. Most of the staff had a similar reaction.

“What?” she questioned when Daisy let out a low whistle, "I just felt like dressing up."

“I hope you are comfortable because you are now officially booked solid," Daisy smiled.

Rocky blinked and swallowed deep. She was finally coming into her own as a tattoo artist. She was still doing smaller and less intricate designs but her technique improved with each one. She took her schedule and got ready for her first appointment.

Seven hours later, Tito walked into the shop. Daisy immediately greeted him, "Rocky is wrapping up a tattoo. It should be a few minutes." Tito took notice of Rocky's neatly labeled portfolio. The contents mainly consisted of small tattoos that she had done in a variety of styles. The mix was split evenly between color and gray. In the back were larger, more intricate designs.

He was lost in thought when Rocky approached from behind. "See anything you are interested in?

"They are all great," he said after he collected himself, "I like these landscape ones. That one reminds me of my days playing on an outdoor rink."

Rocky leaned forward to confirm which drawing he meant. Her breath felt warm against his neck and he inhaled her perfume. "Oh, that one? Let's go talk in my section," she said softly, oblivious to his reaction. She turned around and walked back to her small room. Tito gulped and turned to follow. His eyes involuntarily swept over her body as she walked in front of him.

She was already sitting down when he entered. He stopped at the door and observed her as she pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. "Either come inside or go get me coffee," she joked.

"Coffee?" he asked, "What's your order?"

"Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot and skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle," she answered without looking up.

"You know I have zero shot of getting that right," he smiled.

"Beauregard, if you can remember the draft line-up of your draft in order, then you can remember this," she looked up and flashed a smile. He laughed softly. "Or you could just tell them Rocky's usual," she smiled wider, "Whatever is easier."

"You’re a regular over there?" he asked as he began to leave.

"Yes, and I tip very well. Don't ruin my rep, Beauregard," she warned, "Go and let me work. I am inspired."

"Beauregard?" He stopped, "You can't call me Tito or Beau like everyone else?"

"Do I look like a woman who does what everyone else does?' she retorted.

"Silly me," he sighed, "and to think I am paying to go be your coffee bitch." He waited for a response but she had focused on her paper again.

When he returned with her iced coffee, music was playing. She expertly added shading to the drawing while she sang. https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZY1PqizIl78geGM4xWlEA?si=eebcaf1014c24c38

But if you're single that's honestly worse

'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

(Honey, it hurts)

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face (to your face)

'Cause look at your face (look at your face)

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way (this way)

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

He watched her for a moment before he involuntarily started singing as well.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad (mmh)

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have and

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats (yeugh)

Alone, unless you wanna come along (oh)

Rocky looked up when she heard his voice and smiled. Tito gallantly presented her with her complex coffee order. He glanced over at the picture before teasing, “So you’re a Swiftie? That’s surprising.”

“Why?” she asked.

He made a hand gesture up and down. “The hair, the tattoos, piercings all scream metal goth girl, but here you are jamming away to basic white girl music while drinking basic white girl coffee. Color me confused.”

“That’s what you get when you judge a book by its cover. You miss the complexity of most humans,” she said philosophically. “By the way, I did notice you jamming along. Are there a lot of Swifties in the NHL?”

“Nah, my ex, Tiffany, was one," he answered, "I became one by osmosis."

"Really?" She replied, "My boyfriend just mocks me."

“Ahhhhh,” Tito, “He doesn’t know what he is missing. Taylor Swift is a musical genius.”

"Well, well, well," Rocky whistled, "Look who is the basic white girl now.”

“Shut up and show me the sketch that you have been so focused on,” he answered as he rolled his eyes.

She slid the sketch pad over to him and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “I tried to incorporate everything that we talked about last time,” she said quietly. Rocky wasn’t sure as she was filled with apprehension suddenly. Her art was one of the few areas of her life that she was sure about these days.

Tito gingerly touched the sketch pad and took in each detail of the illustration. He was surprised by the lack of color, but it was so effective that he couldn’t imagine the piece in anything but simple black and gray. It was the embodiment of everything that they had discussed.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Tito swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the tears filling his eyes. “I think,” he started before pausing to steady his voice, “I think it’s perfect.”

“Really?” she smiled tentatively, “You really like it?”

He looked up at her and stared for a moment. Underneath the heavy make-up and tough exterior, he saw her sweet spirit. She was more complex and multi-dimensioned than anyone he had ever met despite practically being a stranger. She had put her heart and soul into this drawing and the magnitude of that action was not lost on him.

“Yes,” he smiled, “I wouldn’t change a thing about it.”

MIDNIGHT RAIN

The next few weeks were a blur to Rocky. Her days were filled with appointments and consultations. Word of mouth began to spread as client after client posted their ink on social media. Glowing reviews accompanied each post, and Rocky’s reputation began to grow in the tattoo community. Pretty soon, some pretty big name artists began following her, including Catarina Vandewahl, who was a pioneer female tattoo artist.

With her growing popularity came sacrifices and hardships. Rocky worked hard to capitalize on the buzz around her work and kept herself booked solid. It meant less and less time at home with Kelly. They became like ships passing in the night. He was going to bed as she got home from a long day at the shop and left before she woke up for the day. On the rare occasion they were together, they both struggled to find the connection that had bonded them in their youth. Kelly worked feverishly on his work project while Rocky sat on the couch and watched hockey.

The texts between Tito and Rocky began as strictly business. Short and brief texts to schedule time to work on his tattoo. It was a task that was becoming more and more difficult to complete due to their hectic schedules. However, somewhere along the line, the tone changed from professional to borderline flirtation.

They scheduled his six hour session two days after Taylor Swift’s Midnights album release. It was a rare day off for Tito and Mondays were usually light for Rocky so she was able to make adjustments to her calendar. The plan was for the duo to experience the album together so they swore to each other to remain as “spoiler free” as possible.

In the meantime, Rocky began to follow the Islanders closely. Growing up in Dallas, she was a casual fan of the Stars. She knew the basics of hockey, but not the finer details. She grew frustrated trying to watch Tito play. Eventually, they developed a routine of Tito picking a game on his “off” nights, and they would text back and forth throughout the game. Of course, it was all in the name of teaching Rocky about hockey. However, the subject quickly opened up to broader discussions that almost touched on the philosophical.

Tito kept her updated about life on the road and humorous stories of adventures with teammates. Rocky threw in stories from the tattoo shop. From there, the subject of relationships bubbled up. Tito was shocked to find himself revealing his frustrations in finding a woman that was willing to put up with his unusual schedule while maintaining her own identity. Most women seemed more than ready to give up their own “careers” to make themselves available to NHL players. Tito found it tedious and boring.

Eventually Rocky found herself venting to Tito about how Kelly and her were on almost completely opposite schedules and how isolated she felt from him. Almost immediately, she regretted it and walked back her statements. Internally she scolded herself for crossing some imaginary line. For his part, Tito avoided the subject and redirected back to the game they were supposed to be watching. He couldn’t even think of a reason why he felt the need to change the subject. They were both venting about essentially the same subject. Still he felt a sting as he listened to her vent and he pictured her domestic life with her boyfriend. The sting was especially strong as he looked around his nondescript hotel room and remembered that there would be no one waiting for him when he returned home at the end of the road trip.

The cracks in Rocky and Kelly’s relationship began to deepen the weekend before Tito’s appointment. With his big work project complete, Kelly looked to reconnect with his long-time love. He made a reservation at a romantic restaurant and booked a suite at the Plaza. It was the sort of restaurant that demanded a level of elegance and style that was out of Rocky’s comfort zone.

“Quit fidgeting,” Kelly smiled as they followed the hostess to their table at the back of the restaurant. His hand was on the small of her back as she smoothed her hair down. She had just dyed her hair a vibrant red that morning and spent an inordinate amount of time curling it to achieve the perfect vintage fifties vibe she was going for.

“People are staring at me,” she said quietly.

“Please,” he joked, “You don’t dye your hair that color while wearing that dress if you don’t want attention.” Rocky flinched internally at his words. After they sat down, she quickly picked up the menu to study it. The fact it also shielded the tears that welled up in her eyes was an added bonus.

“Hey,” Kelly said softly, “Let me see your face.”

“I’m deciding what to eat,” she said as she willed her voice to remain steady.

“Rox,” he whispered, “Let me see your face.” She bit her lip. He only called her Rox when he was being sweet and kind to her. While she couldn’t say that he had been unkind recently, there had been a dearth of sweetness over the past couple of months. Slowly, she lowered the menu to let him see her face. “Rox,” he sighed.

“Do you think I dress the way I do for attention?” she murmured, “Do you think I am that kind of person?”

Kelly reached for her hand and grabbed it before she withdrew it. “I think that you can’t dye your hair fire engine red and cover yourself in tattoos and then be shocked when you get attention from normal people.”

“Normal people?” she questioned as she raised her menu again, “I am not a normal person? Since when?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said flatly, “I don’t want to argue. I like the hair and the dress. You look beautiful and unique. You should rock the hell out of it while you can.”

“While I can?” she asked after the server took their order, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Rox,” he said, “Don’t overthink it. I just want to have a romantic night with my girl.”

Something inside of her bristled at the comment “his girl”. She tried to focus on his intent or at least what she believed to be his intent. Kelly wasn’t a malicious person. He was actually quite thoughtful and caring. In fact, it was one of her favorite qualities about him. She looked at him and smiled. "So do you want to hear about my week?" He nodded in affirmation and she began telling a funny story about a misspelled tattoo.

Back in their hotel suite later, they had exhausted all subjects of conversation. Rocky pulled out her phone as a distraction and saw the notification from Tito.

Rocky quickly typed out a reply.

Rocky- Hey…. Quit cheating

Tito- Who? Me?

Rocky- Yes, you - Beauregard

Tito- #sorrynotsorry. I am bored in the hotel room. Staying spoiler free is hard.

Rocky- Quit being a spoiler whore and go to sleep. You will need your energy for Monday.

Tito- That's right- you're going to pop my cherry. Be gentle with me.

Rocky stared at the screen. She knew full well that he was referring to his first tattoo experience. However, suddenly, a very graphic image of her sliding down onto him filled her mind. She could almost hear him whisper in his light accent, "Be gentle with me." Rocky dropped her phone which drew Kelly's attention. He gave a funny face and she scrambled to grab the phone to prevent Kelly from seeing the content. Then she remembered that it had only been a figment of her imagination and not anything that could be read

Tito- Rocky?

Rocky- Sorry, dropped phone. Yes, I will be gentle with you. I gotta go. We’re headed to bed. TTYL.

Tito stared at the screen. "Headed to bed?" he thought. A vision of Rocky riding him while throwing her head back filled his mind. He tried to imagine just how much of her upper body was decorated with ink. He stared at the screen, then put the phone down. He turned on the TV and willed himself to not look at the phone. “Fuck it,” he groaned as he picked up his phone again. Without thinking, he found himself on her Instagram page scrolling through pictures. “Don’t hit like, don’t fucking hit the like button,” he reminded himself as he stalked. It was mainly tattoo photos with an occasional selfie. He scrolled back up and stopped. “Damn,” he whispered to himself, “Damn.”

Before he could stop himself, he responded with a flirty reply. He saw Kelly’s response and exhaled in disgust before clicking on his profile. His posts consisted of mainly “bro” activities - hanging out with friends, tailgating at Jets games, trips to the shore, etc. Tito noticed that they were only rare pictures of Rocky, at least recently.

Pretty soon, he had spent an hour down the rabbit hole of Kelly’s profile. He had pieced together a rough timeline of Rocky’s relationship with Kelly. It started off strong in high school with nearly constant photos. Things definitely cooled in college as Kelly morphed from slightly emo/goth boy to total finance bro . There was a direct correlation between their individual transformations and their relationship-at least based on what you could see on social media. Tito would bet that Rocky's tattoos and fashion style were an issue. The more she got, the less he posted her picture. A couple of years after graduation, other than holiday and anniversary posts, she was non-existent on his timeline. It wasn't as if Kelly was necessarily hiding his relationship with Rocky on social media, but he wasn't exactly shouting it from the rooftops either. He did a similar deep dive onto Rocky’s page and reached the same conclusion.

He scrolled back to her post from that night. How could the things that he found so fascinating about Rocky be an issue for this Kelly dude? He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand it all. Tito gently touched the screen with his thumb. Her smile made him feel things. Her eyes, he thought to himself, her eyes were bright on the surface, but underneath there was a world that he wanted to know. He wanted to know what made her happy and what made her sad. He wanted to know what she thought about the new Taylor Swift album. He wanted to know her thoughts about everything.

Back at the Plaza, Rocky sighed heavily as she tried to get comfortable in the oversized hotel bed. As much as she appreciated the thought and effort that Kelly had put into making the night special, something had fallen flat. Even their lovemaking had been lackluster with them both going through the motions without any true passion between them. Muscle memory elicited perfunctory orgasms for each of them before both they rolled in opposite directions to sleep. Rocky tried "fluffing" her pillow before grabbing her phone.

She glanced at Instagram and smiled at Tito's comment. "Can't sleep?" Kelly said sleepily.

"No, maybe it was the espresso martini at dinner?" She replied.

"Rox, you mainline coffee all day long. How can an espresso martini affect you like this?" he challenged. She shrugged her shoulders. "Come here," he held out his arm to her, "I'll try the head thing." Rocky rolled over and snuggled into his chest. They laid in silence for a minute. Kelly's fingertips ran up and down arm gently in slow, methodical fashion. He could feel the tension oozing out of her pores. "Rox, talk to me," he finally asked, "I know that something set you off tonight."

"Well, first you said I wasn't normal," she started meekly.

"Normal wasn't the right word," he interjected, "Average is more accurate. It wasn't meant as an insult, Rox. You should know that you stand out in a crowd. You are special and unique….."

"Why do I sense that there is a but hanging in the air?" She questioned.

"There is no but hanging in the air…." He snapped back.

"What did you mean when you said I should rock the hell out of my look while I can?" she lifted her head and stared into his eyes.

"There it is. That is what you have been stewing over since dinner," he sighed, "What I meant was that eventually you will need to dress more appropriately. Wait, appropriate is not the right word. Hmmmm, maybe I should say….ummmm, subdued."

"Subdued? Why do I need to be subdued?" She shot back.

He sighed, "because eventually I will need you to be a partner. I can't become a CEO without a good partner."

"CEO?" she balked, "Since when do you want to become a CEO? What happened to the 'work as hard as we can fo the next ten years so we can retire and travel the world" plan? When did that change?"

Kelly blinked, "When I started and discovered that I actually liked it. I am good at my job and I can go further than I thought I could. I know it doesn't mean shit to you but I love it. If you gave it a chance, you might like it too."

Rocky searched into his eyes to gauge his seriousness. Her gaze was met with an expression of such earnestness that she felt actual pain in her heart. "Tell me more about this plan," she said softly before she laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her to pull her close. She listened as he explained his fifteen year long route to CEO. It included getting married within two years and having their first child two years after that. Everything was mapped out in such detail that Rocky was beginning to wonder when exactly the original plan changed and when he was planning on telling her.

"You're being awfully quiet, Rox," he said at the end as he wrapped up.

"It's a lot to take in," she whispered, "It's a lot to take in."

"You'll at least consider it? Will you at least consider it for me?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, I will think about it," she sighed.

Kelly kissed the top of her head, "You're the best. I love you."

"Love you too," she yawned, "let's get some sleep."

TWO DAYS LATER- INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop

Tito winced and gritted his teeth as Rocky worked on the outline of the complex tattoo design they had settled on. “How are you doing there, Beauregard?” Rocky asked cheerfully. Tito had been sitting stoically for almost three hours. The session started out strong. They started with listening to Taylor Swift’s Midnights, but after two times they grew restless. When Rocky suggested switching to Speak Now, he readily agreed.

He groaned, “Why on earth would you willingly do this multiple times?”

Rocky smiled, “I don’t know. The art is worth the pain, I suppose. Of course, it could also be that I am tougher than you and can take the pain. I would have thought a hockey player would be tougher but then again Barzal cried like a little bitch too.”

“Hey,” he whined, “Would you like me to tell you all of the injuries that I have played with?”

“Will it make you quit whining?” she countered, “If so, then by all means, tell me how tough you are.” Rocky knew that it would draw his focus away from the tattoo and therefore the pain. Sure enough, the conversation bought Rocky about forty five minutes of productive work time. When he began to lose focus again, Rocky tapped his leg. “Hey, we are at a good stopping point for a break. You rest and I will go grab us some lunch from next door. The lasagna is top notch.” Tito breathed a sigh of relief. Within minutes, Rocky had prepared his arm enough to move freely. “Stretch, move around and relax,” she instructed, “We have about another four hours to finish it. Think you can handle it?” She looked at him with concern. It was his first tattoo and she wanted to be sure that he didn’t tap out before she finished. Also, she wouldn’t admit to anyone, but part of her wondered if she could take another four hours on trying to focus on tattooing while she ignored the intrusive thoughts in her head.

When she returned with the food, he was casually scrolling through his phone. He graciously accepted the lasagna and bottle water. “What do I owe you?” he asked.

“You don’t need to pay me back,” she insisted.

“I am not used to women buying me food,” he blushed.

Rocky blinked, “Beauregard….. What kind of women are you dating? They don’t even do the courtesy to reach for their wallet? Where are you finding them? Puckbunnies.com?”

“Hey,” Tito cautioned, “Tap the brakes there.”

Rocky immediately hung her head, “I am sorry, Beau. Truly, I am. I am just dealing with a personal thing and it’s got me extra “fight the patriarchy” right now.

Tito’s face immediately softened, “Something personal? With your boyfriend? What’s his name again- Kelly?”

Rocky sighed, “Yeah, something with him. Hey, how did you know his name?”

Tito blinked. He didn’t want to admit to the stalking of Instagram. “Ummm, didn’t he comment on the picture the other day?” he answered casually.

“Oh yeah,” Rocky smiled, “I forgot about that.”

They sat in silence for a moment. The unanswered question hung in the air. Finally Tito asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rocky fought the impulse to open to him. “He’s a client,” she told herself before she took another bit of lasagna. She looked out of the corner of her eye to find Tito staring, waiting on an answer. “Beauregard, I appreciate the offer. It’s nothing earth shattering or dramatic," she offered as an answer. When his eyes didn't move from her face, "Stop staring at me. You're being weird,"

Tito looked down and thought, "Was he being weird?" Then he shook his head and looked at her. Her eyes held a silent plea to drop the subject. He waffled between pushing for an answer, absolutely hoping for any news that the relationship had cracks that could be exploited and letting her tell him without pressure. He grimaced at his mind that jumped at the opportunity to "exploit" any weaknesses in her relationship. No, if they had a future together in their destinies, it would happen without manipulation or pressure. He smiled and deflected, "So, ummmm, where did Rocky come from? Did your dad just really want a boy?"

She was thankful for the deflection. She wasn't ready to put her emotions into words yet. Rocky grinned widely, "It's short for Raquelle. My younger brother, Gabriel, could only say Raq and not Raquelle. Alexander turned it into Rocky after I beat him up." Tito's eyes widened. "Well, he deserved it. He stole my Nintendo DS," she explained.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Raquelle," Tito smiled.

There was something about the way that he said her name made her heart leap with joy. She felt blush overcome her cheeks and she looked away. Tito thought she never looked more beautiful. "Yep, I am going to call you Raquelle from now on," he teased casually.

"Whatever you say, Anthony " she countered. Both of them scrunched their noses immediately. "Nope, Beauregard is better," she declared. She glanced at the clock. "Now eat up, Beauregard," she ordered, "We are going to start in ten minutes and keep going until we are done."

"Yes, Raqueĺle," he cooed, exaggerating each syllable in his slight French accent. Rocky bit her lip and took a bite of lasagna. "I will let you torture me again in ten minutes." he laughed.

Rocky's plan to carb load Tito worked. When they began again, he got into the zone. He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. His body entered into a trance like state and they powered through together. They were reaching the finish line when "Midnight Rain" started. https://youtu.be/Odh9ddPUkEY?si=IRMd5VC86a0xnQ77. Taylor's voice filled the room

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

Rocky's head popped and listened to the song that seemed to encapsulate the current state of her relationship. When the words "Cause he was sunshine, I was midnight rain,.He wanted it comfortable,I wanted that pain" floated across the room, her eyes filled with tears. Unable to see, she lifted the needle from Tito's skin. The lack of sensation reached into his brain but did not penetrate. It was the tear that splashed down on his forearm that got his attention. He looked at the wet mark and then lifted his eyes to look at her face

Tears streamed down as she stared into space. "Rocky? Are you okay?" He sat straight up in the chair. She glanced at him and cried harder. "Rocky, what happened?" He questioned. "Mon ami, what happened? Did you make a mistake?" She shook her head vigorously.

"He is sunshine and I am midnight rain. He wants comfortable and I want pain," she said out loud to no one in particular.

"Who?" His hand went to her cheek, "Kelly?" She nodded her head. "What happened, Mon Ami? You were fine," he soothed.

"The song," she choked out.

He listened as the song ended. "Which song?" He asked.

"Midnight Rains," she whispered.

"The breakup song?" He asked in the tenderest voice.

Rocky wiped her tears, "He has a fifteen year plan now. He wants to be a CEO and he wants me to be the good little corporate wife." Tito's mind raced. "Can you imagine?" She whined, "Can you imagine me at the country club."

"No, no I can't." He answered honestly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Terrified," she blurted out, "What if I can't do it? What if I lose myself in the process?

"Do you even want to do it? He asked sincerely, "Is that the life you want?"

She stared at him like he had three heads. Of course, it was Kelly. He was her future. He had been her future since she can remember. She hadn't considered what she wanted.

He wiped her tears that still flowed." It is just a song," he whispered, "It doesn't have to mean a break up." Internally he screamed at himself to shut up, but he couldn't stop himself. No, if she was going to end things, she would do it without his interference. It was clear that she wasn't ready to let go. "Rocky…." He continued as she stared into space, "Raquelle…." Her head snapped in direction. "It's just a song," he explained, "You get to decide your future. You can have any future you want."

Rocky inhaled deeply, "You think?"

"I know," he smiled back.

"Thank you Beauregard," she smiled, "You're a good friend to me." Her breath hitched as the word came out of her mouth.

"It is my pleasure," he smiled, "It's.honor and a pleasure to be your friend. However, if you don't finish this ink soon, I am going to come to my senses soon and I will never let you near me with a needle again."

Rocky glared, "No way you are tapping out now. Buckle up Beauregard.".He sat back and closed his eyes. "Alexa, play Shake It Off."

Thirty minutes later, Tito stood and admired the design. "It's perfect," he praised, "I can't wait to post it."

Two weeks later - USB Arena

Kelly held the ticket stub in his hand as they walked around the concourse of the USB arena. “Rox,” he said suddenly, “These are lower bowl seats. I think these seats are pretty close to the glass. Where did you get them again?”

“I told you,” she said sweetly, “A client gave them to me as a thank you.” Kelly led them down the stairs to the seats which were right next to the Islanders penalty box. Rocky took the seat nearest the box. Kelly had a thing about having an easy exit out of crowded places and would have felt boxed in. The music in the arena was loud and pulsating. Rocky looked around and absorbed the vibe. She was lost in thought when a loud horn sounded. She looked up to see the Islander team taking the ice. She hadn’t even noticed that she held her breath until she saw Tito step out onto the ice following Barzal. She smiled and exhaled as her eyes stayed glued to him.

She couldn’t help but notice the difference in him. His face was devoid of expression and his eyes focused on the ice in front of him as the group began to make laps around their end of the ice. Gone was the friendly, but somewhat introverted Beauregard that she knew. In place was a determined and focused warrior. Rocky was tempted to bang on the glass when Barzal took a position in front of her seats to begin his stretches. She decided against creating a potential awkward moment. Instead she searched for Tito, she found him on the opposite side of the ice, stretching as well.

A high pitched squeal of "Barzy" penetrated the air and he leisurely looked over his shoulder to find the source. A gaggle of college girls stood behind Rocky holding a sign that said "Barzy- You can go 5 hole on us." He smirked and shook his head before noticing Rocky, who very obviously focused on something that had her complete attention. He had a hunch on the object of her focus. It was confirmed when he followed her sight line that went straight to Tito.

He almost shouted across the ice, but thought better of it. Instead he waited, they stood next to each other for a drill. "Hey Tito, why didn't you say anything about Rocky being here tonight," Barzal remarked casually, "Those are better seats than we normally get to give away. Did you ask for extra nice ones for her?"

Tito's head spun around in surprise, "What? Where?"

Barzal pointed to Rocky's location. Tito looked and saw her staring in his direction. He felt his stomach flip while a smile spread across his face. He waved shyly and Rocky felt her face flush.

"Did that player just wave at you?" Kelly asked. He turned to Rocky who waved back to Tito before she turned to face him.

“Yeah, I know him from the shop,” she answered evasively. Immediately she felt a pang of guilt hit. Between her earlier fascination and not completely honest answer, she walked the boundary of both her relationship with Kelly AND Tito. She added, “I actually did a tattoo for him a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh,” Kelly turned to assess the hockey player, “So that’s why your schedule has blown up recently. You are tattooing ‘celebrities’ these days. Good for you.”

Rocky turned to Kelly with her arms folded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Did I say that it was a bad thing?” Kelly questioned incredulously.

The couple stood and stared at each other.. The stare down lasted long enough to attract Tito’s attention. His eyes widened slightly when Rocky’s angry expression registered. He started skating before his brain engaged. A guttural instinct took over. Someone had upset his Raquelle and that- it was just unacceptable. He hit the boards immediately in front of Kelly with enough force to knock Kelly’s beer off the ledge he had left it sitting on. The beer splashed Kelly’s jeans while the sound of the hit reverberated through the area. Kelly looked down at his pants, then to Tito who stared him down on the other side of the glass. “Hey!” Kelly yelled as Tito looked at Rocky who stood with her jaw dropped.

Her mind raced to imagine a justification for Tito’s actions and she could find none. Her look of confusion felt like a stab in the heart to Tito. Rocky turned to Kelly who burst out laughing. The reaction of the crowd in the section was the rousing cheer of approval and amusement. Tito winked at Rocky before he skated off to the bench. “Hey Jake,” Tito called the equipment manager, “You have any money?”

“Why?” the assistant equipment yelled back.

“I knocked that guy’s beer over. I need to buy him another one,” Tito explained.. “Come on, you know I am good for it,” Tito cajoled. Jack turned to delegate the task to one of the team interns when Tito yelled again.

As he made his request, Jake looked on incredulously. “You owe me, Beau- you owe me,” he laughed as he walked away.

In the brief time between end of warm-up and puck drop, a hapless team intern came bounding down the steps toward Kelly and Rocky. He stood at the end of the row and yelled down to them. “Hey, Tito bought you a beer to replace the one he knocked over,” the intern said cheerfully as he passed the cup of beer down the row. Then he passed down the large coffee cup and added, “This is for Rocky?” Kelly eyed her suspiciously as Rocky waited for the cup. When she received it, she glanced to get confirmation. It was her ridiculously complicated drink. Tito made someone go to Starbucks and return with a coffee specifically made for her.

“Can you tell him thank you?” she smiled at the intern.

“You can tell him yourself,” the intern responded, “He wants me to bring you down to the locker room after the game. Wait here and I will come get you after the third period.”

“Wow,” Kelly quipped, “That must have been one hell of a tattoo you did for him. You’re getting VIP treatment.”

Later, toward the end of the second period, Rocky leaned forward and intently watched the faceoff taking place in front of her. Kelly had made an early exit to beat the line at the concession stand. The Islanders were in a tight, chippy game against the Dallas Stars- the score tied up at one. Tito lined up against Jamie Benn who acknowledged him with a head nod. Tito looked back over his shoulder and glanced at Rocky but then returned his focus to the task at hand. Benn laughed, “Is that your girl? She looks like fun.”

Tito responded with a shove to Benn’s chest, “Shut up.” Benn retaliated with a stick poke and a smile- content with the knowledge that he had found a way to get under Tito’s skin. Both resumed position again but began jostling sticks back and forth. When the puck dropped, he used his stick to upend Tito.

The move drew the ire of the Islander crowd and Rocky stood up and yelled, “Hey, you can’t do that.” Benn smiled even bigger as Tito got up and launched a shove into his opponent’s chest. The captain grabbed a hold of the stick and they jostled for a few moments before Tito dropped his gloves and reached to pull Benn down into a headlock before he started swinging. He landed several punches before the bigger man was able to pull him down to the ground. Refs separated them. Tito ripped off his helmet as he got back to his feet and shook his head. .

Benn smiled, sure that he had instigated Tito into a penalty. During a tie game, drawing a penalty was crucial. His smile soon disappeared when he realized that it was he that was getting the extra penalty for his trip. Tito gave him a smile, “Thanks for the power play. It will come in handy.”

He entered the penalty box casually, sitting down on the bench and placing his helmet beside him. He wiped his face with the towel as Benn yelled from his box. Tito looked over lazily as he caught his breath. “Lucky you,” the captain yelled and pointed. Tito turned around to see Rocky staring intently at him, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly smiled as he turned around.

Tito scooted on the bench so that he was closer to her. Suddenly, he forgot where he was and focused on her smile. “Fancy meeting you here, Mon Ami,” he greeted her.

“Beauregard…..” she spoke in an exaggerated drawl, “I’m not a hockey expert, but I do believe that you are supposed to stay OUT of the penalty box.”

“Raquelle…..” he began with a little more accent than necessary. Rocky felt her cheeks begin to flush. Tito stared at her face, “If I stayed OUT of the box, then we wouldn’t have this chance to chat. You know that chatting with you is my favorite thing in the world.” Rocky leaned forward and grinned.

Somewhere in the TV control room, a producer proclaimed, “Are you guys seeing this?” The director looked up as the producer shared the camera view into the Islander penalty box onto the large screen. There, in the picture, were Tito and Rocky shamelessly flirting. Within seconds, the shot was on live TV with the Islanders TV announcers commenting on it.

“Butch,” Brendan Burke chuckled, “It seems like we have a bit of an off-ice situation happening here.”

Back in their bubble, Rocky joked, “I knew you were trouble when you walked in…”

Tito retorted, “It’s me. Hi, I’m the problem it’s me.”

“At tea time, everybody agrees,” she finished.

Back in the control room, one of the female interns shouted out, “Holy shit, they are quoting Taylor Swift to each other.”

The director yelled, “No fucking way!” He suddenly had visions of a viral moment. The information was relayed to the announcers.

Tito moved on to another song, “Best believe I’m still bejeweled, When I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer.”

Rocky picked up, “And when I meet the band, They ask “Do you have a man?” I can still say, ‘I don’t remember’”

Inside the control room, the announcer's booth and the entire Islanders liveblog tag on Tumblr, people watching were losing their collective minds. Comments flew back and forth- “Do you think he even knows that there is a game still going on? The moment was interrupted by the penalty box attendant who tapped Tito on the shoulder, “Fifteen seconds, dude.”

Tito’s head spun around and he remembered where he was. He quickly gathered his equipment and stood by the door. He turned to Rocky and smiled. She started “I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.”

The door opened and Tito skated onto the ice. He glanced back and saw Kelly returning to his seat. He handed Rocky a bottle of water and she looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. The voice inside Tito's head finished the lyric, “Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” He felt the sharp pain in his abdomen like a punch to a gut. It pulled him out of dream-like state and back into the reality of the game. “Use this,” he said to himself, “Use the pain as motivation.”

His eyes returned to the play and he saw his opening as he gained speed. He knocked Miro Heiskanen off the puck and took it onto his stick. He weaved his way through the two defensemen and circled the net. He passed the puck to Barzal who shot it at the net. Jake Oettinger coughed up a juicy rebound that landed on Tito’s stick. He lifted the puck up and over Oettinger’s shoulder into the net. It took a second for Tito to realize what had just happened. He was swarmed by his teammates as the arena erupted in cheers.

He looked over to see Kelly pick Rocky into his arms and swing her around. He quickly turned to accept congratulatory pats on the head from his teammates. Rocky’s head spun while in Kelly’s arm to find Tito. When she found him on the bench, she swallowed hard. The focused expression on his face had returned and he stared directly in front of him. It was Rocky’s turn to feel the gnawing ache in her stomach. The period ended and she watched him walk to the tunnel without looking back.

The Islander locker room buzzed with excitement of the new lead. Round of "Thatta boy, Beau, spread around the room. Tito didn't respond. Instead he replayed his time in the penalty box -the ease of talking to Rocky, the way she pulled him out of the game, the butterflies he felt when he looked into her eyes. He could have stayed lost in that moment for the rest of his life.

His thoughts were interrupted by Anders Lee's voice. "Sooooo who is the girl and can we buy her a beer?" he joked.

"Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you," ran through his head. The memory of her hug with Kelly flashed in his brain. Tito gritted his teeth and shook his head. "She's nobody- just the woman who did my tat," he spit out, 'She's nobody." With that, he got up to find the intern from earlier. Barzal watched in silence before getting up and following him. The rest of the team looked at each other in confusion.

Barzal caught up as Tito finished his conversation. "Are you sure" the intern asked. Tito nodded his head.

"Sure about what?" Barzal questioned.

"Sure that I don't want her to come down after the game," Tito answered emphatically.

"Why?" Barzal questioned as they walked back to the room.

"Because I said so dumbass," Tito muttered as he put on his gear.

Upstairs,the intern made his way to Rocky's seats. Kelly looked confused when the intern gently explained, "Tito is not going to be able to see you after the game after all. There is a mandatory team meeting that he can't miss."

Rocky blinked. She knew it was a lie but didn't want to argue or appear too eager to see Tito.. "Oh okay- well, tell him that I will see him around I guess.” She tried to hide the disappointment on her face, but Kelly knew her well enough to spot the fake smile. They rode in uncomfortable silence back to their apartment.

Later in bed, they faced opposite walls with their backs to each other. “So that’s who you've been texting recently?” Kelly asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she said softly, “He has been teaching me about hockey.”

"Clearly it worked. You were really focused on the game. I am glad you had a good time. You deserved it." Kelly yawned "Good night Rox. Love you."

"Ditto, Kels," she replied softly. Rocky's phone began to buzz. She picked it up.

Daisy: Girl��

Rocky: What?

Daisy: You're viral.

Rocky: What? How?

Daisy sent her the link to SportCenter and the segment about Tito's time in the penalty box. Rocky watched in a combination of sweet memory and horror. She thought back to what she felt in the moment. The feeling had been so pure and she struggled to name it. It finally dawned on her- joy.

"What's the problem with joy?" She asked herself as the dread and horror spread around her body. It had been so long since she had experienced true joy. She couldn't remember when the last time was. One thing she knew that it wasn't with Kelly- the person who she should share joy with.

She looked back at Kelly with a wistful look. "I have to be better," she said to herself, "He deserves better." She rolled over and watched the clip again. The feeling of joy returned as she watched Tito's face and a thought popped into her head, "Don't you deserve better?" She pursed her lips and turned off her phone.

Barzal/Beauvillier condo- Long Island

"Fuck you, I would have made that shot,," Tito yelled out to no one in particular as the NHL22 game played. Barzal gave him a side eye and continued playing the video game.

After Tito added "motherfucker," Barzal paused the game. Tito protested meekly before Barzal cut him off, “What in the hell is your problem dude?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Tito countered.

“Don’t lie to me Beau. It insults my intelligence,” Barzal challenged. Tito began a pithy response, but stopped when he saw his roommate’s expression. The concern was apparent and completely out of character for Barzal. “Does it have something to do with Rocky?” Barzal asked quietly. Tito leaned back and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I am going to take that as a yes,” Barzal continued, “Want to talk about it?”

“There is nothing to talk about. I misread her signals,” Tito spit out, “I thought there might be something there, but clearly I am wrong.”

“I am not so sure about that dude,” Barzal sighed. The brunette turned and studied his roommate's face. He pondered his next words carefully. "Look, I was going to wait and let you find out tomorrow, but there is something that you need to see." He pulled out his phone and started the video of Tito and Rocky from the penalty box.

Tito smiled involuntarily at Rocky as his finger went caress her face on the phone screen. He wanted to push the feeling down but it swept over him like a tidal wave. Barzal chuckled, "Dude, you have it bad. You are so into her."

"Too bad she isn't into me," Tito whined.

"Look, she may have a boyfriend, but she is into you," Barzal countered. Tito began to shake his head but Barzal interjected, "Look at her face when she looks at you. She desn't look at her boyfriend that way. I watched her during the game. Trust me there is something there, Beau. It wasn’t just during your penalty. Her eyes were on you the entire game.."

"So what should I do? She has a boyfriend," Tito asked.

"Be patient until she figures it out," Barzal suggested, “I don’t know much but I know that she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at you.”

"So business as usual?" Tito asked. Barzal nodded his head. "One Sec," Tito held up his hand. He reached for his phone and typed a quick text to Rocky,

Tito: Hey sorry we couldn't connect after the game, but it was great to see you.

Rocky: I thought you were mad at me.

Tito: Never mon ami

Rocky: You sure?

Tito: 100% sure

Rocky: You wouldn't lie to me, would you Beaugard?

Tito: Raquelle, you wound me

Rocky: Sweet dreams. Great game by the way

Tito: Thanks- good night

Three days later-INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop

Rocky tidied her work station and eyed the door. She had received a terse text from Kelly during her last appointment that simply said "We need to talk. I am working at Starbucks. Let me know when you can chat.” She responded with an equally terse "It will be fifteen minutes as I finish up. It can't wait until tonight?"

"No- I don't want to have this conversation after midnight," was the response.

Precisely fifteen minutes later, Rocky looked up when she sensed his presence and their eyes locked. Her soft smile was met with pursed lips. "Hey," she said as she kissed his cheek before he settled into his seat. His hands held a to-go coffee cup that she was certain contained her order to perfection. "What's up?" she asked casually.

Kelly studied her next design before he sat down. His eyes looked at her askance. His mouth opened and shut several times. With each time, Rocky felt a knot in her stomach develop. "Rocky….." he began, "...... you know I love you. I have loved you since kindergarten when you walked up to me, the new kid, and announced that we were going to be best friends." Rocky smiled at the memory. He continued, "You were the girl, Rocky. You were the girl I was going to love forever. You were my past, you were my present, and you were going to be my future."

Rocky gulped, "Were?"

Kelly swallowed hard, "Yes, were. You have to know that we haven't been working for a while. We lead completely different lives with completely different goals. I don't think it's fixable, Rox. I don't think we can make it work now.

"Kelly, I love you. You know that. There is no one I love more than you," Rocky gasped.

"I know, Rox. I love you too. You are my favorite person but somewhere along the way, we fell out of love with each other. It doesn't make you the bad guy and it doesn't make me the bad guy. We are just two best friends whose lives are on separate tracks," he spoke in a hushed tone. "I tried to ignore it but I can't anymore. I deserve to be in love and you deserve to be in love.” Rocky stared at the ground as his words sunk into her soul. Her head popped up when he said, “Honestly, I think you are in love."

Rocky stood up, "What are you talking about? There isn't anyone but you. You think I am cheating on you?"

"Tito," he stared into her eyes, "I saw it when I saw the video."

"We were just goofing off and being silly," she exclaimed.

“During a game? A game that he is passionate about?” Kelly countered, "And when was the last time we goofed off like that?" Kelly sighed, “I can’t ignore the evidence. I mean it went viral.”

"I didn’t mean for it to go viral," she countered weakly, “We’re friends I swear. Nothing else. He just gets me. Kelly- he and I are just friends.”

"I believe that you think that," he stood up to walk to her, "I believe that you are doing everything in your power to honor your commitment to me. You are denying what your heart is telling you."

"And what do you think it's telling me?” she whispered.

"That you are not in love with me anymore and if I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him," he reached for her hand. "Look, I could tell at the game. It's there and I would be a fool to try to deny it."

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried, "I don't want to break your heart."

Kelly intertwined his fingers into hers. "It would break my heart to settle for less than we deserve. You deserve to be in love. You deserve someone who wants the crazy lives you two lead." He stopped and inhaled, "And I deserve someone who wants the white picket fence, the PTA and the ordinary life I crave. I deserve someone in love with me."

Tears streamed down Rocky's face, "I'm sorry."

Kelly wiped her tears with his thumbs, "Don't be. Don't be sorry for being you. I love you. I love you enough to set us free."

"I love you, Kelly," she leaned her forehead into his chest, "I'll always love you."

"I know, but now it's time to love each other from a distance," he kissed the top of her head, "One day we can be best friends again."

"I would like that," she looked up at him, "So we're over? We're really over?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "at least as lovers."

Out in the lobby, Tito held his finger up to his lips as he entered the shop to keep Daisy from announcing his arrival. In his hand, he held a large coffee and protein box. He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. Kelly stood with his arms wrapped around Rocky’s back. Her face was nuzzled into his neck. Tito’s body lurched like he had been punched in the stomach. “I love you Rox,” Kelly smiled as he set her down and kissed the top of her head. He then turned around to walk past Tito. He glanced at Tito, who stood frozen, and smiled. Rocky watched the exchange in numb silence. Tito watched Kelly leave the shop and then turned his head to look at Rocky. She gave him a soft smile. Internally, Tito’s mind raced. He didn’t have an agenda when he decided to drop by and see Rocky, but he certainly didn’t expect to witness such a tender moment. “Snap out of it, Beauvillier,” he told himself, “You got the wrong idea. She has a boyfriend- one that she loves even if you can't make it make sense to your brain.”

“Hey Beauregard,” she stepped toward, “To what do I owe this surprise?” She fought to keep the tears out of her eyes and her voice smooth and steady. They exchanged a look and Rocky watched as Tito’s expression hardened before her.

“I, uhhhhh, was in the neighborhood, “ he began. He couldn’t think of a singular good reason why he would be here that didn’t involve a fervent desire to kiss her. So like all good men when forced to face an uncomfortable emotion, he lied. “I wanted to be sure that you were still eating,” he stammered, “You need to eat so you can keep doing good tattoos. I vouched for you and uhhhhhh, I don’t want anyone who listened to me to be disappointed by a sucky tattoo because your blood sugar level dropped.”

He thrust the coffee and food into her hands. Before she could protest, he was half-way to an escape. “Thanks for the coffee, Beauregard,” she called out to him. She could see his body flinch but he kept moving. Rocky watched in despair as he made his retreat.

What had happened? After their post-game chat, Tito had been reserved but still friendly. Now he was running away because of why she did not know. Rocky replayed Kelly’s words in her brain. “If I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him,” he had said. She sighed bitterly and added, “Yeah, but Kels, clearly he will not fall in love with me.”

She turned to walk back into her section and looked around. She had two consultations and three appointments scheduled. She went to her table and sat down. She started the music but quickly turned it off when the starting notes of “Lover” began. Impulsively, she picked up her sketchbook and threw it across the room. Loose papers and notes tucked into it scattered on the floor. “Whoa,” JD whistled as he entered her section, “What happened here?”

Rocky got down on her hands and knees to gather the papers to her chest. She placed her hand on a blank piece of paper and flipped it over. It was Tito’s tattoo design. Tears filled her eyes and she sat back on her heels. JD looked at the paper and then back at Rocky. Her face dissolved into tears. “Rocky?” he questioned, “What happened?”

"Kelly broke up with me," she cried.

"What? Why?" JD resigned himself to getting down on the floor and sat next to her.

Rocky wiped her nose with her arm. "He wants sunshine and I am midnight rain," she explained to JD as if he would understand. The words brought Tito to her mind and she started sobbing again. "Beauregard would understand," she thought to herself.

JD sat patiently and waited for a break in the sobs. He had not been sure when Rocky had shown up at the shop, boldly asking for an apprenticeship. He found himself unable to say no despite the fact that had never mentored anyone before her, something he had taken great pride in. However in the almost year later, they had formed a unique friendship despite their age difference.

"I am going to assume that was some sort of Taylor Swift reference," he said drolly, "Care to explain it to the non-Swiftie?"

"He was this whole corporate life with the house in the suburbs and PTA wife," she sighed. "I was going to try to make it work," she continued, "but things changed and he didn't want to try anymore."

"You mean he didn't want to try to force a relationship with a woman clearly in love with another man?" he asked gently. Her jaw dropped and she started to protest. "I saw Beauvillier leave," he added.

"Yeah, you saw him leave. He couldn't get out of here fast enough," she cried, "Clearly he isn't interested."

"I think the evidence points to the contrary," JD countered, "but his loss if that's true." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You know, I think you are ready to end the apprenticeship."

Her head shot up, "Getting dumped twice in one day. That has to be a record."

"I am not DUMPING you. I am telling you that you have freedom to choose your next path," he explained. "You are ready, Rocky," he nudged her shoulder.

"You think I am ready to go solo, really?" Rocky asked in earnest, "What if I fail?"

"I have a feeling that you are going to fly," he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"What should I do about Tito?" She asked.

"I think that you shouldn't go from one man to another. If you are going to go solo, then go solo," JD spoke, "but potentially? Yeah, I saw you on Sportscenter and ship it. That's the right word, right?"

"You're learning, old man," Rocky joked.

Daisy poked her head in the room, "Ummmm, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard about Kelly." Rocky looked up at her. "I canceled the rest of your day and tomorrow," Daisy added, "Pack up your stuff. I am taking you home and we're having a meeting of the 'Boys are stupid and they suck' committee. No arguments, Rocky. We are going to laugh and we are going to cry until you don't need to anymore." Rocky's eyes filled with tears. "See, you've already started."

Hours later, Rocky stood in the guest bathroom of Cameron and Daisy's large home. She looked at her face. Her eyes were puffy from tears but she felt a wave of peace wash over her body. Daisy and she had discussed her future and what she wanted. As much as she felt a pull toward Tito, she could not shake the feeling that she needed time. JD was right. She couldn't jump from one man to another man. Rocky had spent her entire adult life committed to Kelly. It was time to spread her wings and fly. She felt confident that even if she crashed and burned that she was strong enough to make it on her own.

She took a deep breath and picked up her phone. She noticed two things- no communication from Tito and a text from Kelly. She opened the text and smiled, "Rox, I miss you already but know that our destiny lies as best friends. I will be here waiting to see where your destiny takes you. You are capable of greatness. I'll love you forever."

She typed out her response to Kelly. Then she hit the dial button.

"Hey Rocky,” the voice on the other end answered.

"Is that job offer still good?" Rocky asked.

"Yes, are you considering it?" The voice asked.

"If you still want me," Rocky responded.

"Pack your bags. I have a guest house you can use until you get settled. Can you be here in a week?" Cat smiled.

"See you then," Rocky smiled.

STATE OF GRACE

A WEEK LATER- ISLANDERS PRACTICE FACILITY

"Hey Tito," Kelly called to him as he exited the ice after practice.

Tito stopped and stared, "What the fuck does he want?" He thought to himself.

Kelly held out a cardboard tube and Tito, "It's from Rocky."

"A delivery? From Rocky?" He called back, "Why didn't she deliver it herself?"

"I think you know why," Kelly replied dryly. Tito thought about the multiple texts and calls from her that he had ignored. "Just read the card," Kelly added before he turned to walk away.

Tito ripped the card open and read it quickly.

Beauregard-

I hope this note finds you well. This is not the way I wanted to tell you but I am moving.

Tito's eyes snapped up, "You two are moving?"

"No, just her," Kelly explained. Tito tilted his head in question. "We broke up last week. In fact, the day I saw you at the shop, " Kelly added.

Tito thought back to the day. He had been so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion. "You idiot," he told himself, "You fucking idiot." He continued to read.

I tried texting and calling several times, but those have not been returned. I have decided to make a fresh start in a new city. All of my adult life has been bending myself and sacrificing my dream to allow Kelly to pursue his dream. I am going to some place brand new and testing my wings to see if I can fly on my own.

Tito smiled to himself, "Oh mon ami, Raquelle, you can fly. Oh how high you will fly."

I am sad to leave you and our friendship. I didn't want to leave without saying two things. First, I am thankful that fate brought us together as friends. Your friendship reminded me who I am, the part of me that I had hidden away to fit into the mold of what Kelly wanted and needed. I am Midnight Rain and that's okay. Thank you for accepting me and all my quirks. Not only did you accept them- you embraced them which helped me embrace them too.

Second- I am thankful for the joy that you brought back to me. It had been so long since I felt the joy that I felt with you. I love you, Beauregard. I don't believe that our journey is over. In fact I think that you are just at the beginning of a wonderful life full of adventure and more importantly, love. You will bring so much joy to the life of the woman who you love and she will be so lucky. So long for now. In the words of our Queen Taylor- "And when you find everything you looked for, I hope your life leads you back to my door. Goodbye, Mon Ami."

He pulled out the sketch of his tattoo out of the cardboard tube. She had written- "Never forget the joy of hockey. Keep it in your heart forever just like I will keep the joy of you in my heart forever."

"Goodbye Mon Amour," Tito whispered as he placed the drawing back into the cardboard tube, "No, not goodbye-see ya later."

THREE MONTHS LATER- BEAN AROUND THE WORLD COFFEE SHOP-VANCOUVER

The coffee shop was crowded with the morning rush. The barista greeted Rocky with a smile. In the three months since she had moved to Vancouver, she had become a regular so there was no need to give her order.

"So what's your day look like?" Lauren, the barista from England, asked cheerfully.

"I have an easy day today. Only two appointments and a consultation," Rocky answered with a grin.

"Ahhhh," Lauren winked as she rolled her sleeve so her new tattoo was prominently on display, "I'll advertise for walk-ins." Since getting inked by Rocky, Lauren had fed a steady stream or referrals over to the tattoo shop. The large black and gray realistic wolf was a showstopper and customers complimented her on it daily.

"Keep that up and I'll have to give you a discount on that sleeve we discussed," Rocky quipped.

"Don't tempt me," the Brit joked. Rocky moved down to the pick up counter to wait for her drink. She faced away from the crowd and studied her phone.

Further down the line, Elias Pettersson stood with his new linemate. They had just completed a practice and workout. "So you are set in your airBNB?" The Swedish superstar asked, “No issues?”

Tito looked up as they moved up to the counter, "Yeah, I'm all set." Tito had been traded to Vancouver earlier in the week in a trade that the hockey media dubbed "The Bo for Beau exchange". His first game was the next night, "I really like the area. It's got a cool vibe." Canucks players segregated themselves - the married players sought the comforts of the suburbs while the single guys stayed close to the active nightlife by the arena.

"What can I get you, Petey?" Lauren asked the Swede. After he gave his simple order, she turned to Tito, "and you?"

Tito rattled off his order, "Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot with skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle."

Lauren looked up in disbelief. What were the odds that TWO people would have that same, very specific coffee order? "Can you repeat that?" she asked. Just then the other barista that made the coffees called, "Order for Rocky."

Tito shook his head in disbelief. Surely he had misheard. They hadn't said Rocky and if they did, it couldn't be HIS Rocky. He turned to see the petite pixie walking toward the door. Her hair was now a pastel pink but there was no mistaking that it was indeed HIS Rocky. He immediately chastised himself, "You have no claim on her, especially with the way she had left." Undeterred, he started weaving his way through the crowded shop while his mind raced. She was here in Vancouver. He was here in Vancouver. His path was blocked at every step. He stopped and yelled "Raquelle!"

She stopped and turned. It sounded like Tito but it made no sense. Why would he be in Vancouver? "No," she told herself as searched the sea of faces unsuccessfully, "You're imagining things." She turned back around and headed down the crowded street.

Tito felt the air leave his lungs when she turned at the sound of his voice. She was here. It felt like a dream so he gave chase. Petersson called after him, "Beau!!" The call landed on deaf ears as Tito made it out to the street.

Fifteen minutes later, a dejected Tito entered the coffee shop. He found Petey sitting at a small table with a bemused smile on his face. "Where did you take off to?" The platinum blonde asked as he handed Tito his coffee.

"A girl," Tito spoke breathlessly, "A girl I knew from Long Island."

"Let me guess. Her name is Rocky?" The Swede said although he had pieced together some info.

Tito took the coffee and sat down, “Yeah. I can’t believe she is here. What are the odds that we would be here at the same time?”

“So this girl- is she an ex or something?” Petersson.

Tito paused before answering, “It’s complicated.”

Petersson raised a single eyebrow, “Men and women are not that complicated unless you make it complicated.”

“She’s the one that got away,” Tito sighed.

“So go after her,” the Swede replied.

“You saw me try. She vanished. I searched, but if I didn’t know better, I would think she was a figment of my imagination.

Now that the rush had subsided, Lauren walked through the shop- straightening tables and greeting customers. “Who is a figment of your imagination?” the beautiful brunette asked with a smile.

Petersson answered, “The elusive Rocky who apparently is the owner of Beau’s heart.”

“You know Rocky?” she replied in her delightful accent, “it makes sense now.”

“Wait, what makes sense?” Tito questioned.

“It makes sense you know each other. You have the same coffee order,” Lauren pondered, “You are the only two people with that order.”

“You KNOW Rocky?” Tito practically jumped out of his seat, “So she is a regular here? She LIVES here in Vancouver?”

“She moved here a few months back. She’s been a regular since starting at the tattoo shop- Pink Ink,” she answered, “She did my wolf.” She held out her arm for Tito to examine.

Tito looked down and studied the tattoo. It was Rocky’s work all right. There was no mistaking her technique. He could tell immediately it was her design and work. He head spun with this newfound information. Electricity ran through his body. Rocky- his Raquelle- was here. She was so close he could feel her pull him to her like a magnet pulling a piece of metal.

Lauren studied him quietly but the realization hit her. “Wait a minute! You’re the guy from that video. The hockey one with the penalty box. Bloody hell, that’s you?….. And she’s the gal, right?” she exclaimed. Tito smiled and nodded his head yes.

“But that doesn’t mean anything now,” Tito said, suddenly filled with apprehension. They hadn’t ended on good terms. Well, more specifically he had acted like an idiot. What if she had moved on already? What if she had sworn off men altogether? Did he still have a chance?

When Tito looked up, she saw the questions in his eyes. “She said she had unfinished business in Long Island with a guy. I didn’t recognize her with the new hair. By the looks of it, her unfinished business must be you.” Tito’s jaw dropped when she continued, “Don’t just stand there. This is True Love. You think this happens every day?”

“Princess Bride!” Petersson exclaimed- proud that he caught the pop culture reference. Tito glared at him. “What? I am a man of many layers,” the Swede continued.

“Where is that shop?” Tito interrupted as he stood up and started walking towards the door. “What’s the name of it?” He heard her answer, Pink Ink, and Googled as he walked. He smiled when he realized how close the shop was and hit the call button on his phone.

Rocky puttered around her station, getting ready for the day. She overheard Emily, the receptionist, answer the phone. “Pink Ink where we specialize in sarcasm, good tattoos and fighting the patriarchy. How can I help you?”

“Hi….uhhhh,” Tito stammered, “I’d like to get a tattoo. I have heard good things about a Rocky?”

“Oh yeah, Rocky? She’s one of the best,” Emily answered, “When did you want to come in??” Rocky stopped in her tracks to listen to the conversation.

“Now?” Tito hesitated.

“Sure, I’ll let her know that she has someone coming in,” the receptionist responded. “Can I get a name? Okay, great- see you soon.” Emily got up and walked to Rocky’s room. “Hey you have basically a last minute tattoo.” Rocky nodded her head in understanding as she finished lighting her candles and started her playlist. “Yeah, some guy named Beauregard,” Emily called as she headed back to the front.

Rocky spun around and walked out to the hallway, “I’m sorry. What did you say the name was….” Her head turned as the front door chimed and the door opened. “Did you say Beauregard?” Rocky questioned. Tito walked in and Rocky’s jaw dropped.

“Raquelle!” he exclaimed as he walked in, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Rocky stood frozen in disbelief. She willed her mouth to say something. She willed her body to move. “Do something!” her mind screamed, “Do something.” She watched him walk towards in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly the message hit the message center of the neurons that controlled her body and her body launched into motion. She sprinted to him and threw herself into his waiting arms.

“Beauregard,” she cried out, “What are you doing here?”’ Her brain raced for answers. “Do you have a game here? How did you find me?” she quizzed, “I don’t care. I don’t care. You’re here.”

“Well, you did say you hope my life leads me back to your door. So here I am,” he laughed as he swung her around. When he stopped to keep from getting dizzy, they stared at each other. Breathless, they stayed glued to each other- their lips nearly touching.

Rocky’s eyes scanned his face. His bright blue eyes sparkled as she searched for any clue as to his thoughts or feelings. Internally, she questioned “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he is just glad to see his friend?” The doubtful thought was immediately met with the equally loud thought, “Take the chance, Rocky- take the chance.” She brought lips to his lips in a tentative kiss. The electricity jolted through their bodies and together, they deepened the kiss.

“Mon Amour,” he moaned, “Raquelle, mon amour.” They kissed in the hallway, oblivious to their surroundings.

Finally, Rocky broke the kiss and he set her down gently. She took his hand to guide him to her room. When they stepped inside, she turned to him and asked, “Wait, did you say Mon Amour?”

“Yes, I did,” he pulled her to him, “Rocky, I love you. I have loved you from the moment you shot me down and told me that you saw a whole world hidden behind my eyes.”

“But I live here now, Beauregard,” she protested.

“So do I,” he kissed her, “So do I.”

“Wait, what?” she questioned, “You live here? In Vancouver?”

“Oui, I was traded earlier this week. Life literally brought me to your door, or coffee shop, to be exact.” he answered. When she looked confused, he told her the story about their almost meeting at the coffee shop.

It was Rocky’s turn to kiss him, “Remind me that I owe Lauren that sleeve.”

“I owe her everything,” he smiled.

“Did you really want a tattoo or was that a ploy?” she smiled as she studied his face.

“I definitely want a tattoo,” he laughed.

“Oh?” she took a step back.

He pulled up his shirt and pointed to his chest. “I am thinking of getting Raquelle right above my heart in a fancy script. Think you can do that?”

“I mean it’s the kiss of death for relationships. How long have you been with this Raquelle?” she mocked.

“For about sixty seconds, but I have a good feeling about her,” he teased.

“Maybe you should at least wait until after your first date,” she poked his chest before inhaling sharply as she caught sight of his abs.

“That’s a good idea. I have an idea for the perfect first date,” he quipped as they fell into the easy rhythm of their banter.

“What’s that?” she quipped back.

“Have you ever heard of Taylor Swift?” he laughed, “She has a concert this summer near here. You might like her.”

Rocky laughed, “You are going to make me wait until July for our first date? So rude.”

“Fine,” he kissed her before he continued, “How about hockey? I know a guy who can get you into the Canucks game tonight.”

“Perfect first date,” she returned his kiss. Suddenly the words of JD rang in her head- Don’t jump from one man to another. Rocky pushed off of his chest and took several steps back.

“Raquelle?” he questioned, “Did something happen?”

Rocky studied him for a moment, trying to verbalize her thoughts. "Beauregard, I like my life. I have a good job. I have good friends. I worked hard to create a life that makes me happy, and I am absolutely not changing it to fit into yours no matter how much I adore you."

"Raquelle, I don't want you to change anything for me. You're perfect exactly the way you are. Don't change a thing."

"I mean it Beau. I am not giving up my passion for you," she says as he inched toward her.

"I would be disappointed if you did," he said and took another step.

"You're really here in Vancouver?" she said, “Like for real?”

"Yes, I am," he said.

“And you want to be with me?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, I do. I want it more than anything I have ever wanted before,” he continued. He placed his hand on her cheek as she smiled, "It looks like all along there was some invisible string tying you to me."

"You think quoting her majesty Queen Taylor will help your case?" she whispered as he stood inches from her mouth.

"I would call on the hockey gods if I thought it would help me," he smiled.

"Shut up and kiss me," she started to quip back.

"Yes, Raquelle, yes Mon Amour" he cooed before he kissed her.

#tito beauvillier fic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #the summer fic exchange 2k23 #anthony beauvillier fic #ny islander imagine

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